s/ 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


BY  MRS.  ATHERTON 
Historical 

The  Conqueror 
A  few  of   Hamilton's  Letters 

California:    An  Intimate  History 
War  Book 

The  Living  Present 
Fiction 

California 
Rezanov 

The  Doomswoman 
The  Splendid  Idle  Forties   (1800-46) 
A  Daughter  of  the  Vine  (The  Sixties) 
Transplanted  (The  Eighties) 
The     Calif  ornians     (Companion     Volume    to 

Transplanted) 

A  Whirl  Asunder  (The  Nineties) 
Ancestors   (Present) 

The  Valiant  Runaways;  A  Book  for  Boys 
(1840) 

In   Other  Parts  of  the   World 

The  Avalanche 

The  White  Morning 

Mrs.  Balfame 

Perch  of  the  Devil  (Montana) 

Tower  of  Ivory  (Munich  and  England) 

Julia  France  and  Her  Times  (B.  W.  I.  and 
England) 

Rulers  of  Kings  (Austria,  Hungary  and  the 
Adirondacks) 

The  Travelling  Thirds   (Spain) 

The  Gorgeous  Isle  (Nevis,  B.  IV.  I.) 

Senator   North    (Washington) 

Patience  Sparhawk  and  Her  Times  (Califor 
nia  and  New  York) 

The  Aristocrats   (The  Adirondacks) 

The  Bell  in  the  Fog  (Short  Stories  of 
various  Climes  and  Places) 


.THE 

SISTERS-IN-LAW 

A  NOVEL  OF  OUR  TIME 


BY 


GERTRUDE  ATHERTON 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1921,  by 
GERTRUDE  ATHERTON 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of  translation 
into  foreign  languages 

Published  January  28,  1981 
Second  Printing,  February  7,  1921 
Third  Printing,  February  38,  1921 
Fourth  Printing,  April  1,  1921 


TO 

DR.  ALANSON  WEEKS 

OF  SAN  FRANCISCO 


Several  people  who  enter  casually 
into  this  novel  are  leading  charac 
ters  in  other  novels  and  stories  of 
the  "California  Series/'  which  covers 
the  social  history  of  the  state  from 
the  beginning  of  the  last  century. 
They  are  Gwynne,  his  mother,  Lady 
Victoria  Gwynne,  Isabel  Otis  and 
the  Hofers  in  ANCESTORS;  the  Ran 
dolphs  in  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  VINE; 
Lee  Tarlton,  Lady  Barnstable,  Lady 
Arrowmount,  Coralie  Geary,  the 
Montgomerys  and  Trennahans  in 
TRANSPLANTED  and  THE  CALIFOR- 
NIANS;  Rezanov  in  the  novel  of  that 
name,  and  Chonita  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cada  in  THE  DOOMSWOMAN,  both 
bound  hi  the  volume,  BEFORE  THE 
GRINGO  CAME;  The  Price  Ruylers  in 
THE  AVALANCHE. 


BOOK  I 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  I 


THE  long  street  rising  and  falling  and  rising  again 
until  its  farthest  crest  high  in  the  east  seemed  to 
brush  the  fading  stars,  was  deserted  even  by  the  private 
watchmen  that  guarded  the  homes  of  the  apprehensive 
in  the  Western  Addition.  Alexina  darted  across  and 
into  the  shadows  of  the  avenue  that  led  up  to  her  old- 
fashioned  home,  a  relic  of  San  Francisco's  "early  days," 
perched  high  on  the  steepest  of  the  casual  hills  in  that 
city  of  a  hundred  hills. 

She  was  breathless  and  rather  frightened,  for  although 
of  an  adventurous  spirit,  which  had  led  her  to  slide  down 
the  pillars  of  the  verandah  at  night  when  her  legs  were 
longer  than  her  years,  and  during  the  past  winter  to 
make  a  hardly  less  dignified  exit  by  a  side  door  when 
her  worthy  but  hopelessly  Victorian  mother  was  asleep, 
this  was  the  first  time  that  she  had  been  out  after  mid 
night. 

And  it  was  five  o'clock  in  the  morning! 

She  had  gone  with  Aileen  Lawton,  her  mother's  pet 
aversion,  to  a  party  given  by  one  of  those  new  people 
whom  Mrs.  Groome,  a  massive  if  crumbling  pillar  of  San 
Francisco's  proud  old  aristocracy,  held  in  pious  disdain, 
and  had  danced  in  the  magnificent  ballroom  with  the  tire 
less  exhilaration  of  her  eighteen  years  until  the  weary 
band  had  played  Home  Sweet  Home. 

She  had  never  imagined  that  any  entertainment  could 
be  so  brilliant,  even  among  the  despised  nouveaux  riches, 
nor  that  there  were  so  many  flowers  even  in  California. 
Her  own  coming-out  party  in  the  dark  double  par- 

3 


;THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

p'f-  Qe  old. 'house  among  the  eucalyptus  trees,  whose 
moans  and  'sigh's  could  be  heard  above  the  thin  music  of 
piano  and  violin,  had  been  so  formal  and  dull  that  she 
had  cried  herself  to  sleep  after  the  last  depressed  member ' 
of  the  old  set  had  left  on  the  stroke  of  midnight.  Even 
Aileen's  high  mocking  spirits  had  failed  her,  and  she 
had  barely  been  able  to  summon  them  for  a  moment  as 
she  kissed  the  friend,  to  whom  she  was  sincerely  devoted, 
a  sympathetic  good-night. 

"  Never  mind,  old  girl.     Nothing  can  ever  be  worse. 
Not  even  your  own  funeral.    That's  one  comfort." 


ii 

That  had  been  last  November.  During  the  ensuing 
five  months  Alexina  had  been  taken  by  her  mother  to 
such  entertainments  as  were  given  by  other  members  of 
that  distinguished  old  band,  whose  glory,  like  Mrs. 
Groome 's  own,  had  reached  its  meridian  in  the  last  of 
the  eighties. 

Not  that  any  one  else  in  San  Francisco  was  quite  as 
exclusive  as  Mrs.  Groome.  Others  might  be  as  faithful 
in  their  way  to  the  old  tradition,  be  as  proud  of  their 
inviolate  past,  when  * '  money  did  not  count, ' '  and  people 
merely  "new,"  or  of  unknown  ancestry,  did  not  venture 
to  knock  at  the  gates ;  but  the  successive  flocks  of  young 
folks  had  overpowered  their  conservative  parents,  and 
Society  had  loosened  its  girdle,  until  in  this  year  of  grace 
nineteen-hundred-and-six,  there  were  few  rich  people  so 
hopelessly  new  that  their  ball  rooms  either  in  San  Fran 
cisco  or  "Down  the  Peninsula,"  were  unknown  to  a 
generation  equally  determined  to  enjoy  life  and  indiffer 
ent  to  traditions. 

Mrs.  Groome  alone  had  set  her  face  obdurately  against 
any  change  in  the  personnel  of  the  eighties.  She  had 
the  ugliest  old  house  in  San  Francisco,  and  the  change 
from  lamps  to  gas  had  been  her  last  concession  to  the 
march  of  time.  The  bath  tubs  were  tin  and  the  double 
parlors  crowded  with  the  imposing  carved  Italian  furni 
ture  whose  like  every  member  of  her  own  set  had.  in  the 
seventies  and  eighties,  brought  home  after  their  frequent 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  5 

and  prolonged  sojourns  abroad :  for  the  prouder  the  peo 
ple  of  that  era  were  of  their  lofty  social  position  on  the 
edge  of  the  Pacific,  the  more  time  did  they  spend  in 
Europe. 

Mrs.  Groome  might  be  compelled  therefore  to  look  at 
new  people  in  the  homes  of  her  friends — even  her  proud 
daughter,  Mrs.  Abbott,  had  unaccountably  surrendered 
to  the  meretricious  glitter  of  Burlingame — but  she  would 
not  meet  them,  she  would  not  permit  Alexina  to  cross 
their  thresholds,  nor  should  the  best  of  them  ever  cross 
her  own. 

Poor  Alexina,  forced  to  submit,  her  mother  placidly 
impervious  to  coaxings,  tears,  and  storms,  had  finally 
compromised  the  matter  to  the  satisfaction  of  herself 
and  of  her  own  close  chosen  friend,  Aileen  Lawton.  She 
accompanied  her  mother  with  outward  resignation  to 
small  dinner  dances  and  to  the  Matriarch  balls,  presided 
over  by  the  newly  elected  social  leader,  a  lady  of  unim 
peachable  Southern  ancestry  and  indifference  to  wealth, 
who  pledged  her  Virginia  honor  to  Mrs.  Groome  that 
Alexina  should  not  be  introduced  to  any  young  man 
whose  name  was  not  on  her  own  visiting  list ;  and,  while 
her  mother  slept,  the  last  of  the  Ballinger-Groomes  ac 
companied  Aileen  (chaperoned  by  an  unprincipled  aunt, 
who  was  an  ancient  enemy  of  Maria  Groome)  to  parties 
quite  as  respectable  but  infinitely  gayer,  and  indubitably 
mixed. 

She  was  quite  safe,  for  Mrs.  Groome,  when  free  of 
social  duties,  retired  on  the  stroke  of  nine  with  a  novel, 
and  turned  off  the  gas  at  ten.  She  never  read  the  so 
ciety  columns  of  the  newspapers,  choked  as  they  were 
with  unfamiliar  and  plebeian  names;  and  her  friends, 
regarding  Alexina 's  gay  disobedience  as  a  palatable  joke 
on  "poor  old  Maria,"  and  sympathetic  with  youth,  would 
have  been  the  last  to  enlighten  her. 


m 

Alexina  had  never  enjoyed  herself  more  than  to-night. 
Young  Mrs.  Hofer,  who  had  bought  and  remodeled  the 
old  Polk  house  on  Nob  Hill — the  very  one  in  which  Mrs. 


6  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

Groome's  oldest  daughter  had  made  her  debut  in  the 
far-off  eighties — had  turned  all  her  immense  rooms  into 
a  bower  of  every  variety  of  flower  that  bloomed  on  the 
rich  California  soil.  It  was  her  second  great  party  of 
the  season,  and  it  had  been  her  avowed  intention  to  out 
do  the  first,  which  had  attempted  a  revival  of  Spanish 
California  and  been  the  talk  of  the  town.  The  decora 
tions  had  been  done  by  a  firm  of  young  women  whose 
parents  and  grandparents  had  danced  in  the  old  house, 
and  the  catering  by  another  scion  of  San  Francisco's 
social  founders,  Miss  Anne  Montgomery. 

To  do  Mrs.  Groome  full  .-justice,  all  of  these  enterpris 
ing  young  women  were  welcome  in  her  own  home.  She 
regarded  it  as  unfortunate  that  ladies  were  forced  to 
work  for  their  living,  but  had  seen  too  many  San  Fran 
cisco  families  in  her  own  youth  go  down  to  ruin  to  feel 
more  than  sorrow.  In  that  era  the  wives  of  lost  mil 
lionaires  had  knitted  baby  socks  and  starved  slowly. 
Even  she  was  forced  to  admit  that  the  newer  generatpn 
was  more  fortunate  in  its  opportunities. 

Alexina  had  not  gone  to  Mrs.  Hofer's  first  party, 
Aileen  being  in  Santa  Barbara,  but  she  had  sniffed  at 
the  comparisons  of  the  more  critical  girls  in  their  second 
season.  She  was  quite  convinced  that  nothing  so  splen 
did  had  ever  been  given  in  the  world.  She  had  danced 
every  dance.  She  had  had  the  most  defeious  things  to 
eat,  and  never  had  she  met  so  charming  a  young  man 
as  Mortimer  Dwight. 

' '  Some  party, ' '  she  thought  as  she  ran  up  the  steep 
avenue  to  her  sacrosanct  abode,  where  her  haughty 
mother  was  chastely  asleep,  secure  in  the  belief  that  her 
obedient  little  daughter  was  dreaming  in  her  maiden 
bower. 

1  'What  the  poor  old  darling  doesn't  know '11  never 
hurt  her,"  thought  Alexina  gayly.  "She  really  is  old 
enough  to  be  my  grandmother,  anyhow.  I  wonder  if 
Maria  and  Sally  really  stood  for  it  or  were  as  naughty 
as  I  am." 

Alexina  was  the  youngest  of  a  long  line  of  boys  and 
girls,  all  of  whom  but  five  were  dead.  Ballinger  and 
Geary  practiced  law  in  New  York,  having  married  sis- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  7 

ters  who  refused  to  live  elsewhere.  Sally  had  married 
one  of  their  Harvard  friends  and  dwelt  in  Boston.  Maria 
alone  had  wed  an  indigenous  Californian,  an  Abbott  of 
Alta  in  the  county  of  San  Mateo,  and  lived  the  year 
round  in  that  old  and  exclusive  borough.  She  was  now 
so  like  her  mother,  barring  a  very  slight  loosening  of  her 
own  social  girdle,  that  Alexina  dismissed  as  fantastic  the 
notion  that  even  a  quarter  of  a  century  earlier  she  may 
have  had  any  of  the  promptings  of  rebellious  youth. 

"Not  she!"  thought  Alexina  grimly.    "Oh,  Lord!    I 
wonder  if  my  summer  destiny  is  Alta." 


CHAPTER  II 


CHE  was  quite  breathless  as  she  reached  the  eucalyptus 
^  grove  and  paused  for  a  moment  before  slipping  into 
the  house  and  climbing  the  stairs. 

The  city  lying  in  the  valleys  and  on  the  hills  arrested 
her  attention,  for  it  was  a  long  while  since  she  had  been 
awake  and  out  of  doors  at  five  in  the  morning. 

It  looked  like  the  ghost  of  a  city  in  that  pallid  dawn. 
The  houses  seemed  to  have  huddled  together  as  if  in  fear 
before  they  sank  into  sleep,  to  crouch  close  to  the  earth 
as  if  warding  off  a  blow.  Only  the  ugly  dome  of  the 
City  Hall,  the  church  steeples,  and  the  old  shot  tower 
held  up  their  heads,  and  they  had  an  almost  terrifying 
sharpness  of  outline,  of  alertness,  as  if  ready  to  spring. 

In  that  far-off  district  known  as  "South  of  Market 
Street,"  which  she  had  never  entered  save  in  a  closed 
carriage  on  her  way  to  the  Southern  Pacific  Station  or  to 
pay  a  yearly  call  on  some  old  family  that  still  dwelt 
on  that  oasis,  Rincpn  Hill — sole  outpost  of  the  social 
life  of  the  sixties — infrequent  thin  lines  of  smoke  rose 
from  humble  chimneys.  It  was  the  region  of  factories 
and  dwellings  of  the  working-class,  but  its  inhabitants 
were  not  early  risers  in  these  days  of  high  wages  and 
short  hours. 


8  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

Even  those  gray  spirals  ascended  as  if  the  atmosphere 
lay  heavy  on  them.  They  accentuated  the  lifelessness, 
the  petrifaction,  the  intense  and  sinister  quiet  of  the 
prostrate  city. 

Alexina  shuddered  and  her  volatile  spirits  winged  their 
way  down  into  those  dark  and  intuitive  depths  of  her 
mind  she  had  never  found  time  to  plumb.  She  knew 
that  the  hour  of  dawn  was  always  still,  but  she  had  never 
imagined  a  stillness  so  complete,  so  final  as  this.  Nor 
was  there  any  fresh  lightness  in  the  morning  air.  It 
seemed  to  press  downward  like  an  enormous  invisible 
bat ;  or  like  the  shade  of  buried  cities,  vain  outcroppings 
of  a  vanished  civilization,  brooding  menacingly  over  this 
recent  flimsy  accomplishment  of  man  that  Nature  could 
obliterate  with  a  sneer. 

Alexina,  holding  her  breath,  glanced  upward.  That 
ghost  of  evening's  twilight,  the  sad  gray  of  dawn,  had 
retreated,  but  not  before  the  crimson  rays  of  sunrise. 
The  unflecked  arc  above  was  a  hard  and  steely  blue.  It 
looked  as  if  marsh  lights  would  play  over  its  horrid  sur 
face  presently,  and  then  come  crashing  down  as  the 
pillars  of  the  earth  gave  way. 


Alexina  was  a  child  of  California  and  knew  what  was 
coming.  She  barely  had  time  to  brace  herself  when  she 
saw  the  sleeping  city  jar  as  if  struck  by  a  sudden  squall, 
and  with  the  invisible  storm  came  a  loud  menacing  roar 
of  imprisoned  forces  making  a  concerted  rush  for  free 
dom. 

She  threw  her  arms  about  one  of  the  trees,  but  it  was 
bending  and  groaning  with  an  accent  of  fear,  a  tribute 
it  would  have  scorned  to  offer  the  mighty  winds  of  the 
Pacific.  Alexina  sprang  clear  of  it  and  unable  to  keep 
her  feet  sat  down  on  the  bouncing  earth. 

Then  she  remembered  that  it  was  a  rigid  convention 
among  real  Californians  to  treat  an  earthquake  as  a 
joke,  and  began  to  laugh.  There  was  nothing  hysterical 
in  this  perfunctory  tribute  to  the  lesser  tradition  and  it 
immediately  restored  her  courage.  Moreover,  the  curi- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  9 

osity  she  felt  for  all  phases  of  life,  psychical  and  physi 
cal,  and  her  naive  delight  in  everything  that  savored 
of  experience,  caused  her  to  stare  down  upon  the  city 
now  tossing  and  heaving  like  the  sea  in  a  hurricane, 
with  an  almost  impersonal  interest. 

The  houses  seemed  to  clutch  at  their  precarious  foun 
dations  even  while  they  danced  to  the  tune  of  various  and 
appalling  noises.  Above  the  ascending  roar  of  the  earth 
quake  Alexina  heard  the  crashing  of  steeples,  the  dome 
of  the  City  Hall,  of  brick  buildings  too  hastily  erected, 
of  ten  thousand  falling  chimneys ;  of  creaking  and  grind 
ing  timbers,  and  of  the  eucalyptus  trees  behind  her, 
whose  leaves  rustled  with  a  shrill  rising  whisper  that 
seemed  addressed  to  heaven;  the  neighing  and  pawing 
of  horses  in  the  stables,  the  sharp  terrified  yelps  of  dogs ; 
and  through  all  a  long  despairing  wail.  The  mountains 
across  the  bay  and  behind  the  city  were  whirling  in  a 
devil's  dance  and  the  scattered  houses  on  their  slopes 
looked  like  drunken  gnomes.  The  shot  tower  bowed  low 
and  solemnly  but  did  not  fall. 


m 

As  the  earth  with  a  final  leap  and  twist  settled 
abruptly  into  peace,  the  streets  filled  suddenly  with  peo 
ple,  many  in  their  nightclothes,  but  more  in  dressing- 
gowns,  opera  cloaks,  and  overcoats.  All  were  silent  and 
apparently  self-possessed.  Whence  came  that  long  wail 
no  one  ever  knew. 

Alexina,  remembering  her  own  attire,  sprang  to  her 
feet  and  ran  through  the  little  side  door  and  up  the 
stair,  praying  that  her  mother,  with  her  usual  monu 
mental  poise,  would  have  disdained  to  rise.  She  had 
never  been  known  to  leave  her  room  before  eight. 

But  as  Alexina  ran  along  the  upper  hall  she  became 
only  too  aware  that  Mrs.  Groome  had  surrendered  to 
Nature,  for  she  was  pounding  on  her  door  and  in  a 
haughty  but  quivering  voice  demanding  to  be  let  out. 

Alexina  tiptoed  lightly  to  the  threshold  of  her  room 
and  called  out  sympathetically: 


10  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

"What  is  the  matter,  mother  dear?  Has  your  door 
sprung?" 

"It  has.  Tell  James  to  come  here  at  once  and  bring 
a  crow-bar  if  necessary.7' 

"Yes,  darling. " 

Alexina  let  down  her  hair  and  tore  off  her  evening 
gown,  kicking  it  into  a  closet,  then  threw  on  a  bath 
robe  and  ran  over  to  the  servants '  quarters  in  an  ex 
tension  behind  the  house.  They  were  deserted,  but  wild 
shrieks  and  gales  of  unseemly  laughter  arose  from  the 
yard.  She  opened  a  window  and  saw  the  cook,  a  recent 
importation,  on  the  ground  in  hysterics,  the  housemaid 
throwing  water  on  her,  and  the  inherited  butler  calmly 
lighting  his  pipe. 

"James,"  she  called.  "My  mother's  door  is  jammed. 
Please  come  right  away. ' ' 

"Yes,  miss."  He  knocked  his  pipe  against  the  wall 
and  ground  out  the  life  of  the  coal  with  his  slippered 
heel.  "Just  what  happened  to  your  grandmother  in 
the  'quake  of  sixty-eight.  I  mind  the  time  I  had  getting 
her  out." 

IV 

It  was  quite  half  an  hour  before  the  door  yielded  to 
the  combined  efforts  of  James  and  the  gardener-coach 
man,  and  during  the  interval  Mrs.  Groome  recovered 
her  poise  and  made  her  morning  toilette. 

She  had  taken  her  iron-gray  hair  from  its  pins  and 
patted  the  narrow  row  of  frizzes  into  place ;  the  flat  side 
bands,  the  concise  coil  of  hair  on  top  were  as  severely 
disdainful  of  untoward  circumstance  or  passing  fashion 
as  they  had  been  any  morning  these  forty  years  or  more. 

She  wore  old-fashioned  corsets  and  was  abdominally 
correct  for  her  years;  a  long  gown  of  black  voile  with 
white  polka  dots,  and  a  guimpe  of  white  net  whose  ruff  of 
chiffon  somewhat  disguised  the  wreck  of  her  throat. 
On  her  shoulders,  disposed  to  rheumatism,  she  wore  a 
tippet  of  brown  marabout  feathers,  and  in  her  ears  long 
jet  earrings. 

She  had  the  dark  brown  eyes  of  the  Ballingers,  but 
they  were  bleared  at  the  rims,  and  on  the  downward 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  11 

slope  of  her  fine  aquiline  nose  she  wore  spectacles  that 
looked  as  if  mounted  in  cast  iron.  Altogether  an  im 
posing  relic;  and  "that  built-up  look"  as  Aileen  ex 
pressed  it,  was  the  only  one  that  would  have  suited  her 
mental  style.  Mrs.  Abbott,  who  dressed  with  a  profound 
regard  for  fashion,  had  long  since  concluded  that  her 
mother 's  steadfast  alliance  with  the  past  not  only  became 
her  but  was  a  distinct  family  asset.  Only  a  woman  of 
her  overpowering  position  could  afford  it. 

Mrs.  Groome's  skin  had  never  felt  the  guilty  caress  of 
cold-cream  or  powder,  and  if  it  was  mahogany  in  tint 
and  deeply  wrinkled,  it  was  at  least  as  respectable  as  her 
past.  In  her  day  that  now  bourgeois  adjective — twin  to 
genteel — had  been  synchronous  with  the  equally  obsolete 
word  swell,  but  it  had  never  occurred  to  even  the  more 
modern  Mrs.  Abbott  and  her  select  inner  circle  of  friends, 
dwelling  on  family  estates  in  the  San  Mateo  valley,  to 
change  in  this  respect  at  least  with  the  changing  times. 


Alexina  had  washed  the  powder  from  her  own  fresh 
face  and  put  on  a  morning  frock  of  green  and  brown 
gingham,  made  not  by  her  mother's  dressmaker  but  by 
her  sister's.  Her  soft  dusky  hair,  regardless  of  the 
fashion  of  the  moment,  was  brushed  back  from  her  fore 
head  and  coiled  at  the  base  of  her  beautiful  little  head. 
Her  long  widely  set  gray  eyes,  their  large  irises  very 
dark  and  noticeably  brilliant  even  for  youth,  had  the 
favor  of  black  lashes  as  fine  and  lusterless  as  her  hair, 
and  very  narrow  black  polished  eyebrows.  Her  skin  was 
a  pale  olive  lightly  touched  with  color,  although  the 
rather  large  mouth  with  its  definitely  curved  lips  was 
scarlet.  Her  long  throat  like  the  rest  of  her  body  was 
white. 

All  the  other  children  had  been  clean-cut  Ballingers  or 
Groomes,  consistently  dark  or  fair;  but  it  would  seem 
that  Nature,  taken  by  surprise  when  the  little  Alexina 
came  along  several  years  after  her  mother  was  supposed 
to  have  discharged  her  debt,  had  mixed  the  colors  hur 
riedly  and  quite  forgotten  her  usual  nice  proportions. 


12  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

The  face,  under  the  soft  lines  of  youth,  was  less  oval 
than  it  looked,  for  the  chin  was  square  and  the  jaw  bone 
accentuated.  The  short  straight  thin  nose  reclaimed 
the  face  and  head  from  too  classic  a  regularity,  and  the 
thin  nostrils  drew  in  when  she  was  determined  and  shook 
quite  alarmingly  when  she  was  angry. 

These  more  significant  indications  of  her  still  embry 
onic  personality  were  concealed  by  the  lovely  curves  and 
tints  of  her  years,  the  brilliant  happy  candid  eyes 
(which  she  could  convert  into  a  madonna's  by  the  simple 
trick  of  lifting  them  a  trifle  and  showing  a  lower  crescent 
of  devotional  white),  the  love  of  life  and  eagerness 
to  enjoy  that  radiated  from  her  thin  admirably  propor 
tioned  body,  which,  at  this  time,  held  in  the  limp  slouch 
ing  fashion  of  the  hour,  made  her  look  rather  small.  In 
reality  she  was  nearly  as  tall  as  her  mother  or  the  digni 
fied  Mrs.  Abbott,  who  rejoiced  in  every  inch  of  her  five 
feet  eight,  and  retained  the  free  erect  carriage  of  her 
girlhood. 

Alexina,  with  a  sharp  glance  about  her  disordered 
room,  hastily  disarranged  her  bed,  and,  sending  her  ball 
slippers  after  the  gown,  ran  across  the  hall  and  threw 
herself  into  her  mother's  arms. 

"Some  earthquake,  what?  You  are  sure  you  are  not 
hurt,  mommy  dear?  The  plaster  is  down  all  over  the 
house. ' ' 

"More  slang  that  you  have  learned  from  Aileen  Law- 
ton,  I  presume.  It  certainly  was  a  dreadful  earthquake, 
worse  than  that  of  eighteen-sixty-eight.  Is  anything 
valuable  broken?  There  is  always  less  damage  done  on 
the  hills.  What  is  that  abominable  noise  ? ' ' 

The  cook,  who  had  recovered  from  her  first  attack,  was 
emitting  another  volley  of  shrieks,  in  which  the  word 
1 '  fire ' '  could  be  distinguished  in  syllables  of  two. 

Mrs.  Groome  rang  the  bell  violently  and  the  imper 
turbable  James  appeared. 

'  *  Is  the  house  on  fire  ? " 

"No,  ma'am;  only  the  city.  It's  worth  looking  at,  if 
you  care  to  step  out  on  the  lawn. ' ' 

Mrs.  Groome  followed  her  daughter  downstairs  and 
out  of  the  house.  Her  eyebrows  were  raised  but  there 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  13 

was  a  curious  sensation  in  her  knees  that  even  the  earth 
quake  had  failed  to  induce.  She  sank  into  the  chair 
James  had  provided  and  clutched  the  arms  with  both 
hands. 

'  *  There  are  always  fires  after  earthquakes, ' '  she  mut 
tered.  "Impossible!  Impossible!" 

"Oh,  do  you  think  San  Francisco  is  really  going?" 
cried  Alexina,  but  there  was  a  thrill  in  her  regret.  ' '  Oh, 
but  it  couldn't  be." 

' '  No !   impossible,  impossible ! ' ' 

Black  clouds  of  smoke  shot  with  red  tongues  of  flame 
overhung  the  city  at  different  points,  although  they  ap 
peared  to  be  more  dense  and  frequent  down  in  the 
"South  of  Market  Street"  region.  There  was  also  a  roll 
ing  mass  of  flame  above  the  water  front  and  sporadic 
fires  in  the  business  district. 

The  streets  were  black  with  people,  now  fully  dressed, 
and  long  processions  were  moving  steadily  toward  the 
bay  as  well  as  in  the  direction  of  the  hills  behind  the 
western  rim  of  the  city.  James  brought  a  pair  of  field 
glasses,  and  Mrs.  Groom e  discovered  that  the  hurrying 
throngs  were  laden  with  household  goods,  many  pushing 
them  in  baby  carriages  and  wheelbarrows.  It  was  the 
first  flight  of  the  refugees. 

"James!"  said  Mrs.  Groome  sharply.  "Bring  me  a 
cup  of  coffee  and  then  go  down  and  find  out  exactly  what 
is  happening." 

James,  too  wise  in  the  habits  of  earthquakes  to  permit 
the  still  distracted  cook  to  make  a  fire  in  the  range, 
brewed  the  coffee  over  a  spirit  lamp,  and  then  departed, 
nothing  loath,  on  his  mission.  Mrs.  Groome  swallowed 
the  coffee  hastily,  handed  the  cup  to  Alexina  and  burst 
into  tears. 

"Mother!"  Alexina  was  really  terrified  for  the  first 
time  that  morning.  Mrs.  Groome  practiced  the  severe 
code,  the  repressions  of  her  class,  and  what  tears  she  had 
shed  in  her  life,  even  over  the  deaths  of  those  almost 
forgotten  children,  had  been  in  the  sanctity  of  her  bed 
room.  Alexina,  who  had  grown  up  under  her  wing,  after 
many  sorrows  and  trials  had  given  her  a  serenity  that 
was  one  secret  of  her  power  over  this  impulsive  child 


14  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

of  her  old  age,  could  hardly  have  been  more  appalled  if 
her  mother  had  been  stricken  with  paralysis. 

''You  cannot  understand, "  sobbed  Mrs.  Groome. 
"This  is  my  city!  The  city  of  my  youth;  the  city 
my  father  helped  to  make  the  great  and  wonderful 
city  it  is.  Even  your  father — he  may  not  have  been  a 

good  husband Oh,  no !  Not  he ! — but  he  was  a  good 

citizen;  he  helped  to  drag  San  Francisco  out  of  the  po 
litical  mire  more  than  once.  And  now  it  is  going!  It 
has  always  been  prophesied  that  San  Francisco  would 
burn  to  the  ground  some  time,  and  now  the  time  has 
come.  I  feel  it  in  my  bones." 

This  was  the  first  reference  other  than  perfunctory, 
that  Alexina  had  ever  heard  her  mother  make  to  her 
father,  who  had  died  when  she  was  ten.  The  girl  real 
ized  abruptly  that  this  elderly  parent  who,  while  uni 
formly  kind,  had  appeared  to  be  far  above  the  ordinary 
weaknesses  of  her  sex,  had  an  inner  life  which  bound  her 
to  the  plane  of  mere  mortals.  She  had  a  sudden  vision 
of  an  unhappy  married  life,  silently  borne,  a  life  of  sup 
pressions,  bitter  disappointments.  Her  chief  compensa 
tion  had  been  the  unwavering  pride  which  had  made  the 
world  forget  to  pity  her. 

And  it  was  the  threatened  destruction  of  her  city  that 
had  beaten  down  the  defenses  and  given  her  youngest 
child  a  brief  glimpse  of  that  haughty  but  shivering  spirit. 


VI 

Alexina  'a  mind,  in  spite  of  a  great  deal  of  worldly 
garnering  with  an  industrious  and  investigating  scythe, 
was  as  immature  as  her  years,  for  she  had  felt  little  and 
lived  not  at  all.  But  she  had  swift  and  deep  intuitions, 
and  in  spite  of  the  natural  volatility  of  youth,  free  of 
care,  she  was  fundamentally  emotional  and  intense. 

Swept  from  her  poor  little  girlish  moorings  in  the  so 
phisticated  sea  of  the  twentieth-century  maiden,  she  had 
a  sudden  wild  access  of  conscience ;  she  flung  herself  into 
her  mother's  arms  and  poured  out  the  tale  of  her  noc 
turnal  transgressions,  her  frequent  excursions  into  the 
forbidden  realm  of  modern  San  Francisco,  of  her  im- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  15 

mense  acquaintance  with  people  whose  very  names  were 
unknown  to  Mrs.  Groome,  born  Ballinger. 

Then  she  scrambled  to  her  feet  and  stood  twisting  her 
hands  together,  expecting  a  burst  of  wrath  that  would 
further  reveal  the  pent-up  fires  in  this  long-sealed  vol 
cano;  for  Alexina  was  inclined  to  the  exaggerations  of 
her  sex  and  years  and  would  not  have  been  surprised  if 
her  mother,  masterpiece  of  a  lost  art,  had  suddenly  be 
come  as  elementary  as  the  forces  that  had  devastated 
San  Francisco. 

But  there  was  only  dismay  in  Mrs.  Groome 's  eyes  as 
she  stared  at  her  repentant  daughter.  Her  heart  sank 
still  lower.  She  had  never  been  a  vain  woman,  but  she 
had  prided  herself  upon  not  feeling  old.  Suddenly,  she 
felt  very  old,  and  helpless. 

"Well,"  she  said  in  a  moment.  "Well — I  suppose  I 
have  been  wrong.  There  are  almost  two  generations 
between  us.  I  haven't  kept  up.  And  you  are  naturally 
a  truthful  child— I  should  have '' 

1 '  Oh,  mother,  you  are  not  blaming  yourself ! ' '  Alexina 
felt  as  if  the  earth  once  more  were  dancing  beneath  her 
unsteady  feet.  ' '  Don 't  say  that ! ' ' 

The  sharpness  of  her  tone  dispelled  the  confusion  in 
Mrs.  Groome 's  mind.  She  hastily  buckled  on  her  armor. 

"Let  us  say  no  more  about  it.  I  fancy  it  will  be  a 
long  time  before  there  are  any  more  parties  in  San  Fran 
cisco,  but  when  there  are — well,  I  shall  consult  Maria. 
I  want  your  youth  to  be  happy — as  happy  as  mine  was. 
I  suppose  you  young  people  can  only  be  happy  in  the 
new  way,  but  I  wish  conditions  had  not  changed  so  la 
mentably  in  San  Francisco.  .  .  .  Who  is  this  ? 


CHAPTER  III 


Alexina  followed   her  mother's  eyes  she  flushed 
scarlet  and   turned  away  her  head.     A  young  man 
was  coming  up  the  avenue.    He  was  a  very  gallant  figure, 


>  ? 


16  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

moderately  tall  and  very  straight ;  he  held  his  head  high, 
his  features  were  strong  in  outline.  But  the  noticeahle 
thing  about  him  at  this  early  hour  of  the  morning  and 
in  the  wake  of  a  great  disaster  was  his  consummate 
grooming. 

" That— that "  stammered  Alexina,  "is  Mr. 

Dwight.  I  met  him  last  night  at  the  Hof ers '. ' ' 

The  young  man  raised  his  hat  and  came  forward 
quickly.  "I  hope  you  will  forgive  me,"  he  said  with  a 
charming  deference,  "but  I  couldn't  resist  coming  to 
see  if  you  were  all  right.  So  many  people  are  frightened 
of  fire — in  their  own  houses. ' ' 

"Mr.  Dwight — my  mother " 

He  lifted  his  hat  again.  Mrs.  Groome  in  her  chastened 
mood  regarded  him  favorably,  and  for  the  moment  with 
out  suspicion.  At  least  he  was  a  gentleman;  but  who 
could  he  be? 

' '  Dwight, ' '  she  murmured.  ' '  I  do  not  know  the  name. 
Were  you  born  here!" 

"I  was  born  in  Utica,  New  York.  My  parents  came 
here  when  I  was  quite  young.  We — always  lived  rather 
quietly. ' ' 

' '  But  you  go  about  now  ?     To  all  these  parties  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  yes.  I  like  to  dance  after  the  day's  work.  But 
I  am  not  what  you  would  call  a  society  man.  I  haven't 
the  time." 

Mrs.  Groome  was  not  usually  blunt,  but  she  suddenly 
scented  danger  and  she  had  not  fully  recovered  her 
poise. 

"You  are  in  business?"  She  disliked  business  in 
tensely.  All  gentlemen  of  her  day  had  followed  one  of 
the  professions. 

"I  am  in  a  wholesale  commission  house.  But  I  hope 
to  be  in  business  for  myself  one  day. ' ' 

"Ah." 

Still,  all  young  men  in  this  terrible  twentieth  cen 
tury  could  not  be  lawyers.  Mrs.  Groome  knew  enough 
of  the  march  of  time  to  be  aware  of  the  increasing  diffi 
culties  in  gaining  a  bare  livelihood.  Tom  Abbott  was  a 
lawyer,  like  his  father  before  him,  and  his  grandfather 
in  the  fifties.  It  was  one  of  the  oldest  firms  in  San 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  17 

Francisco,  but  she  recalled  his  frequent  and  bitter  allu 
sions  to  the  necessity  of  sitting  up  nights  these  days  if  a 
man  wanted  to  keep  out  of  the  poorhouse. 

And  at  least  this  young  man  did  not  look  like  an  idler 
or  a  wastrel.  No  man  could  have  so  clear  a  skin  and  be 
so  well-groomed  at  six  in  the  morning  if  he  drank  or 
gambled.  Alexander  Groome  had  done  both  and  she 
knew  the  external  seals. 

"Is  Aileen  Lawton  a  friend  of  yours ?"  she  asked 
sharply. 

'  *  I  have  met  Miss  Lawton  at  a  number  of  dances  but 
she  has  not  done  me  the  honor  to  ask  me  to  call. ' ' 

"I  think  the  more  highly  of  you.  .Judge  Lawton  is 
an  old  friend  of  mine.  His  wife,  who  was  much  younger 
than  the  Judge,  was  an  intimate  friend  of  my  daughter, 
Mrs.  Abbott.  Alexina  and  Aileen  have  grown  up  to 
gether.  I  find  it  impossible  to  forbid  her  the  house. 
But  I  disapprove  of  her  in  every  way.  She  paints  her 
lips,  smokes  cigarettes,  boasts  that  she  drinks  cocktails, 
and  uses  the  most  abominable  slang.  I  kept  my  daugh 
ter  in  New  York  for  two  years  as  much  to  break  up  the 
intimacy  as  to  finish  her  education,  but  the  moment  we 
returned  the  intimacy  was  renewed,  and  for  my  old 
friend 's  sake  I  have  been  forced  to  submit.  He  worships 
that — that — really  ill-conditioned  child. ' ' 

"Oh — Miss  Lawton  is  a  good  sort,  and — well — I  sup 
pose  her  position  is  so  strong  that  she  feels  she  can  do 
as  she  pleases.  But  she  is  all  right,  and  not  so  differ 
ent " 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  approve  of  girls — 
nice  girls — ladies — painting  themselves,  smoking,  drink 
ing  cocktails  ? ' ' 

"I  do  not."  His  tones  were  emphatic  and  his  good 
American  gray  eyes  wandered  to  the  fresh  innocent  face 
of  the  girl  who  had  captivated  him  last  night. 

"I  should  hope  not.  You  look  like  an  exceptionally 
decent  young  man.  Have  you  had  breakfast  ?  Alexina, 
go  and  ask  Maggie,  if  she  has  recovered  herself,  to  make 
another  cup  of  coffee." 


18  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

n 

Alexina  disappeared,  repressing  a  desire  to  sing;  and 
young  Dwight,  receiving  permission,  seated  himself  on 
the  grass  at  Mrs.  Groome  's  feet.  He  was  lithe  and  grace 
ful  and  as  he  threw  back  his  head  and  looked  up  at  his 
hostess  with  his  straight  honest  glance  the  good  impres 
sion  he  had  made  was  visibly  enhanced.  Mrs.  Groome 
gave  him  the  warm  and  gracious  smile  that  only  her 
intimate  friends  and  paid  inferiors  had  ever  seen. 

1 1  The  young  men  of  to-day  are  a  great  disappointment 
to  me/7  she  observed. 

"Oh,  they  are  all  right,  I  guess.  Most  of  the  men  that 
go  about  have  rich  fathers — or  near-rich  ones.  I  wish  I 
had  one  myself." 

"And  you  would  be  as  dissipated  as  the  rest,  I  pre 
sume." 

' f  No,  I  have  no  inclinations  that  way.  But  a  man  gets 
a  better  start  in  life.  And  a  man 's  a  nonentity  without 
money. ' ' 

"Not  if  he  has  family." 

"My  family  is  good — in  Utica.  But  that  is  of  no  use 
to  me  here." 

' '  But  your  family  is  good  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  yes,  it  goes  'way  back.  There  is  a  family  man 
sion  in  Utica  that  is  over  two  hundred  years  old.  But 
when  the  business  district  swamped  that  part  of  the  old 
town  it  was  sold,  and  what  it  brought  was  divided  among 
six.  My  father  came  out  here  but  did  not  make  much 
of  a  success  of  himself,  so  that  he  and  my  mother  might 
as  well  have  been  on  the  Fiji  Islands  for  all  the  notice 
society  took  of  them." 

He  spoke  with  some  bitterness,  and  Mrs.  Groome,  to 
whom  dwelling  beyond  the  outer  gates  of  San  Francisco 's 
elect  was  the  ultimate  tragedy,  responded  sympathet 
ically. 

*  *  Society  here  is  not  what  it  used  to  be,  and  no  doubt 
is  only  too  glad  to  welcome  presentable  young  men.  I 
infer  that  you  have  not  found  it  difficult. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  dance  well,  and  my  employer's  son,  Bob 
Cheever,  took  me  in.  But  I'm  only  tolerated.  I  don't 
count." 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  19 

The  old  lady  looked  at  him  keenly.  "You  are  ambi 
tious?" 

He  threw  back  his  head.  "Well,  yes,  I  am,  Mrs. 
Groome.  As  far  as  society  goes  it  is  a  matter  of  self- 
respeot.  I  feel  that  I  have  the  right  to  go  in  the  best 
society  anywhere — that  I  am  as  good  as  anybody  when 
it  comes  to  blood.  And  I  'd  like  to  get  to  the  top  in  every 
way.  I  don't  mean  that  I  would  or  could  do  the  least 
thing  dishonest  to  get  there,  as  so  many  men  have  done, 
but — well,  I  see  no  crime  in  being  ambitious  and  using 
every  chance  to  get  to  the  top.  I'd  like  not  only  to  be 
one  of  the  rich  and  important  men  of  San  Francisco, 
but  to  take  a  part  in  the  big  civic  movements. ' ' 

Mrs.  Groome  was  charmed.  She  was  by  no  means  an 
impulsive  woman,  but  she  had  suddenly  realized  her  age, 
and  if  she  must  soon  leave  her  youngest  child,  who, 
heaven  knew,  needed  a  guardian,  this  young  man  might 
be  a  son-in-law  sent  direct  from  heaven — via  the  earth 
quake.  If  he  had  real  ability  the  influential  men  she 
knew  would  see  that  he  had  a  proper  start.  But  she 
had  no  intention  of  committing  herself. 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  what  is  now  called  San 
Francisco  society?"  she  demanded. 

He  was  quite  aware  of  Mrs.  Groome 's  attitude.  Who 
in  San  Francisco  was  not?  It  was  one  of  the  standing 
jokes,  although  few  of  the  younger  or  newer  set  had  ever 
heard  of  her  until  her  naughty  little  daughter  danced 
upon  the  scene. 

"Oh,  it  is  mixed,  of  course.  There  are  many  houses 
where  I  do  not  care  to  go.  But,  well,  after  all,  the  rich 
people  are  rather  simple  for  all  their  luxury,  and  as  for 
the  old  families  there  are  no  more  real  aristocrats  in 
England  itself." 

Mrs.  Groome  was  still  more  charmed.  * l  But  you  were 
at  Mrs.  Hof er  's  last  night.  I  never  heard  of  her  before. ' ' 

"Her  husband  is  one  of  the  most  important  of  the 
younger  men.  His  father  made  a  fortune  in  lumber  and 
Bent  his  son  to  Yale  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  He  is  really 
a  gentleman — it  only  takes  one  generation  out  here — and 
at  present  he's  bent  upon  delivering  the  city  from  this 
abominable  ring  of  grafters  .  .  .  There  is  no  water  to 
put  out  the  fires  because  the  City  Administration  pock- 


20  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

eted  the  money  appropriated  for  a  new  system;  the 
pipes  leading  from  Spring  Valley  were  broken  by  the 
earthquake." 

"And  who  was  she?" 

Mrs.  Groome  asked  this  question  with  an  inimitable 
inflection  inherited  from  her  mother  and  grandmother, 
both  of  whom  had  been  guardians  of  San  Francisco 
society  in  their  day.  The  accent  was  on  the  * '  who. ' '  Bob 
Cheever,  whose  grandmother  had  asked  or  answered  the 
same  question  in  dark  old  double  parlors  filled  with  black 
walnut  and  carved  oak,  would  have  muttered,  "Oh, 
hell ! ' '  but  Mr.  Dwight  replied  sympathetically :  * '  Some 
thing  very  common,  I  believe — south  of  Market  Street. 
But  her  father  was  very  clever,  rose  to  be  a  foreman  of 
the  iron  works,  and  finally  went  into  business  and  pros 
pered  in  a  small  way.  He  sent  his  daughter  to  Europe 
to  be  educated  .  .  .  and  even  you  could  hardly  tell  her 
from  the  real  thing. ' ' 

"And  you  go  down  to  Burlingame,  I  suppose?  That 
is  a  very  nest  of  these  new  people,  and  I  am  told  they 
spend  their  time  drinking  and  gambling. ' ' 

He  set  his  large  rather  hard  lips.  "No,  I  have  never 
been  asked  down  to  Burlingame — nor  down  the  Penin 
sula  anywhere.  You  see,  I  am  only  asked  out  in  town 
because  an  unmarried  dancing  man  is  always  welcome  if 
there  is  nothing  wrong  with  his  manners.  To  be  asked 
for  intimate  week-ends  is  another  matter.  But  I  don't 
fancy  Burlingame  is  half  as  bad  as  it  is  represented  to  be. 
They  go  in  tremendously  for  sport,  you  know,  and  that  is 
healthy  and  takes  up  a  good  deal  of  time.  After  all 
when  people  are  very  rich  and  have  more  leisure  than 
they  know  what  to  do  with " 

"Many  of  the  old  set  in  Alta,  San  Mateo,  Atherton 
and  Menlo  Park  have  wealth  and  leisure — not  vulgar 
fortunes,  but  enough — and  for  the  most  part  they  live 
quite  as  they  did  in  the  old  days. ' ' 

His  eyes  lit  up.  "Ah,  San  Mateo,  Alta,  Atherton, 
Menlo  Park.  There  you  have  a  real  landed  aristocracy. 
The  Burlingame  set  must  realize  that  they  would  be  no 
bodies  for  all  their  wealth  if  they  could  not  call  at  all 
those  old  communities  down  the  Peninsula. ' ' 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  21 

1 '  Not  so  very  many  of  them  do.  But  I  see  you  have  no 
false  values.  You  must  go  down  with  us  some  Sunday 
to  Alta.  I  am  sure  you  would  like  my  oldest  daughter. 
She  is  very  smart,  as  they  call  it  now,  but  distinctly  of 
the  old  regime. ' ' 

' '  There  is  nothing  I  should  like  better.  Thank  you  so 
much. ' '  And  there  was  no  doubting  the  sincerity  of  his 
voice,  a  rather  deep  and  manly  voice  which  harmonized 
with  the  admirable  mold  of  his  ancestors. 


ill 

Alexina  appeared.  * '  Breakfast  is  ready  for  all  of  us, ' ' 
she  announced.  "We  cooked  it  on  the  old  stove  in  the 
woodhouse.  I  helped,  for  Maggie  is  a  wreck.  Martha 
has  swept  the  plaster  out  of  the  dining-room.  Come 
along.  I  'm  starved. ' ' 

Young  Dwight  sprang  to  his  feet  and  stood  over  Mrs. 
Groome  with  his  charming  deferential  manner,  but  he 
had  far  too  much  tact  to  offer  assistance  as  she  rose 
heavily  from  her  chair. 

"Are  you  really  going  to  give  me  breakfast?  I  am 
sure  I  could  not  get  any  elsewhere. " 

"We  are  only  too  happy.  Your  coming  has  been  a 
real  God-send.  Will  you  give  me  your  arm  ?  This  morn 
ing — not  the  earthquake  but  those  dreadful  fires — has 
quite  upset  me." 

He  escorted  her  into  the  dark  old  house  with  glowing 
eyes.  He  had  seen  so  little  of  the  world  that  he  was 
still  very  young  at  thirty  and  his  nature  was  sanguine, 
but  he  had  never  dared  to  dream  of  even  difficult  access 
to  this  most  exclusive  home  in  San  Francisco.  Its  gloom, 
its  tastelessness,  relieved  only  by  the  splendid  Italian 
pieces,  but  served  to  accentuate  its  aristocratic  aloofness 
from  those  superb  but  too  recently  furnished  mansions 
of  which  he  knew  so  little  outside  of  their  ballrooms. 

And  he  was  breakfasting  with  the  sequestered  Mrs. 
Groome  and  the  loveliest  girl  he  had  ever  seen,  at  seven 
o  'clock  in  the  morning. 

He  looked  about  eagerly  as  they  entered  the  dining- 
room.  It  was  long  and  narrow  with  a  bow  window  at 


22  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

the  end.  The  furniture  was  black  walnut ;  two  immense 
sideboards  were  built  into  the  walls.  It  looked  Ballinger, 
and  it  was. 

It  was  heavily  paneled ;  the  walls  above  were  tinted  a 
pale  buff  and  set  with  cracked  oil  paintings  of  men  in 
the  uniforms  of  several  generations.  The  ceiling  was 
frescoed  with  fish  and  fowl.  There  had  been  a  massive 
bronze  chandelier  over  the  table.  It  now  lay  on  the 
floor,  but  as  James  had  turned  off  the  gas  in  the  meter 
while  the  earthquake  was  still  in  progress  the  air  of  the 
large  sunny  room  was  untainted,  and  the  windows  were 
open. 

The  breakfast  was  smoked  but  not  uneatable  and  the 
strong  coffee  raised  even  Mrs.  Groome's  wavering  spirits. 
They  were  all  talking  gayly  when  James  entered  ab 
ruptly.  He  was  very  pale. 

"City's  doomed,  ma'am.  Thirty  fires  broke  out  si 
multaneous,  and  the  wind  blowing  from  the  southeast.  A 
chimney  fell  on  the  fire-chief's  bed  and  he  can't  live. 
People  runnin'  round  like  their  heads  was  cut  off  and 
thousands  pouring  out  of  the  city — over  to  Oakland  and 
Berkeley.  Lootin'  was  awful  and  General  Funston  has 
ordered  out  the  troops.  Pipes  broken  and  not  a  drop  of 
water.  They're  goin'  to  dynamite,  but  only  the  fire- 
chief  knew  how.  Everybody  says  the  whole  city '11  go. 
Doomed,  that's  what  it  is.  Better  let  me  tell  Mike  to 
harness  up  and  drive  you  down  to  San  Mateo. ' ' 

Mrs.  Groome  had  also  turned  pale,  but  she  cut  a  piece 
of  bacon  with  resolution  in  every  finger  of  her  large- 
veined  hands. 

"I  do  not  believe  it,  and  I  shall  not  run — like  those 
people  south  of  Market  Street.  I  shall  stay  until  the  last 
minute  at  all  events.  The  roads  at  least  cannot  burn." 

' '  This  house  ought  to  be  safe  enough,  ma  'am,  standin ' 
quite  alone  on  this  hill  as  it  does ;  but  it 's  a  question  of 
food.  We  never  keep  much  of  anything  in  the  house, 
beyond  what's  needed  for  the  week,  and  the  California 
Market's  right  in  the  fire  zone.  And  the  smoke  will  be 
something  terrible  when  the  fire  gets  closer. ' ' 

"I  shall  stay  in  my  own  house.  There  are  grocery 
stores  and  butcher  shops  in  Fillmore  Street.  Go  and 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  23 

buy  all  you  can."  She  handed  him  a  bunch  of  keys. 
"You  will  find  money  in  my  escritoire.  Tell  the  maids 
to  fill  the  bathtubs  while  there  is  any  water  left  in  the 
mains.  You  may  go  if  you  are  frightened,  but  I  stay 
here." 

"Very  well,  and  you  needn't  have  said  that,  ma'am. 
I've  been  in  this  family,  man  and  boy,  Ballinger  and 
Groome,  for  fifty-two  years,  and  you  know  I'd  never 
desert  you.  But  no  doubt  those  hussies  in  the  kitchen 
will,  with  a  lot  of  others.  A  lot  of  stoves  have  already 
been  set  up  in  the  streets  out  here  and  ladies  are  cookin ' 
their  own  breakfasts. ' ' 

* '  Forgive  me,  James.  I  know  you  will  never  leave  me. 
And  if  the  others  do  we  shall  get  along.  Miss  Alexina 
is  not  a  bad  cook."  And  she  heroically  swallowed  the 
bacon. 

IV 

James  departed  and  she  turned  to  Dwight,  who  was  on 
his  feet. 

"You  are  not  going?" 

"I  think  I  must,  Mrs.  Groome.  There  may  be  some 
thing  I  can  do  down  there.  All  able-bodied  men  will  be 
needed,  I  fancy." 

"But  you'll  come  back  and  see  us?"  cried  Alexina. 

"Indeed  I  will.    I'll  report  regularly." 

He  thanked  Mrs.  Groome  for  her  hospitality  and  she 
invited  him  to  take  pot  luck  with  her  at  dinner  time. 
After  he  had  gone  Alexina  exclaimed  rapturously : 

"Oh,  you  do  like  him,  don't  you,  mommy  dear?" 

And  Mrs.  Groome  was  pleased  to  reply,  ' '  He  has  per 
fect  manners  and  certainly  has  the  right  ideas  about 
things.  I  could  do  no  less  than  ask  him  to  dinner  if  he 
is  going  to  take  the  trouble  to  bring  us  the  news. ' ' 


24  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  IY 


HHHAT  was  a  unique  and  vivid  day  for  young  Alexina 
*•  Groome,  whose  disposition  was  to  look  upon  life  as 
drama  and  asked  only  that  it  shift  its  scenes  often  and 
be  consistently  entertaining  and  picturesque. 

Never,  so  James  told  her,  since  her  Grandmother  Bal- 
linger  's  reign,  had  there  been  such  life  and  movement  in 
the  old  house.  All  Mrs.  Groome 's  intimate  friends  and 
many  of  Alexina 's  came  to  it,  some  to  make  kindly  in 
quiries,  others  to  beg  them  to  leave  the  city,  many  to 
gossip  and  exchange  experiences  of  that  fateful  morning ; 
a  few  from  Rincon  Hill  and  the  old  ladies'  fashionable 
boarding-house  district  to  claim  shelter  until  they  could 
make  their  way  to  relatives  out  of  town. 

Mrs.  Groome  welcomed  her  friends  not  only  with  the 
more  spontaneous  hospitality  of  an  older  time  but  in  that 
spirit  of  brotherhood  that  every  disaster  seems  to  re 
lease,  however  temporarily.  Brotherhood  is  unquestion 
ably  an  instinct  of  the  soul,  an  inheritance  from  that 
sunrise  era  when  mutual  interdependence  was  as  impera 
tive  as  it  was  automatic.  The  complexities  of  civiliza 
tion  have  overlaid  it,  axid  almost  but  not  wholly  replaced 
it  by  national  and  individual  selfishness.  But  the  world 
as  yet  is  only  about  one-third  civilized.  Centuries  hence 
a  unified  civilization  may  complete  the  circle,  but  hu 
man  nature  and  progress  must  act  and  react  a  thousand 
times  before  the  earthly  millenium ;  and  it  cannot  be  has 
tened  by  dreamers  and  fanatics. 

All  Mrs.  Groome 's  spare  rooms  were  placed  at  the 
service  of  her  friends,  and  cots  were  bought  in  the  humble 
Fillmore  Street  shops  and  put  up  in  the  billiard  room, 
the  double  parlors,  the  library  and  the  upper  hall.  Some 
forty  people  would  sleep  under  the  old  Ballinger  roof 
that  night — dynamite  permitting.  Mrs.  Groome  was 
firm  in  her  determination  not  to  flee,  and  as  James  and 
Mike  were  there  to  watch,  she  had  graciously  given  a 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  25 

number  of  the  gloomy  refugees  from  the  lower  regions 
permission  to  camp  in  the  outhouses  and  grounds. 


Alexina  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  day  with  Aileen 
Lawton,  Olive  Bascom,  and  Sibyl  Thorndyke,  out  of 
doors,  fascinated  by  the  spectacle  of  the  burning  city. 

The  valley  beyond  Market  Street,  and  the  lower  busi 
ness  district,  were  a  rolling  mass  of  smoke  parting  about 
pillars  of  fire,  shot  with  a  million  glittering  sparks  when 
a  great  building  was  dynamited.  All  the  windows  in 
those  sections  of  the  city  as  yet  beyond  the  path  of  the 
fire  were  open,  for  although  closed  windows  might  have 
shut  out  the  torrid  atmosphere,  the  explosions  would  have 
shattered  them. 

"Oh,  dear,'7  sighed  Olive  Bascom,  "there  goes  my 
building.  The  smoke  lifted  for  a  moment  and  I  saw  the 
flames  spouting  out  of  the  windows.  A  cool  million  and 
uninsured.  We  thought  Class  A  buildings  were  safe 
from  any  sort  of  fire. " 

* l  Heavens ! ' '  exclaimed  Alexina  naively,  * '  I  wish  I  had 
a  million-dollar  building  down  in  that  furnace.  It  must 
be  a  great  sensation  to  watch  a  million  dollars  go  up  in 
sparks. ' ' 

"I  hope  your  mother  hasn't  any  buildings  down  in 
the  business  district,"  said  Aileen  anxiously.  "I've 
heard  dad  talk  about  her  ground  rents.  She  11  get  those 
again  soon  enough.  I  fancy  the  old  tradition  survives 
in  this  town  and  they'll  begin  to  draw  the  plans  for 
the  new  city  before  the  fire  is  out.  It  used  to  burn  down 
regularly  in  the  fifties,  dad  says. ' ' 

"I  don't  fancy  we  have  much  of  anything,"  said 
Alexina  cheerfully.  '  *  I  think  mother  has  only  a  life  in 
terest  in  a  part  of  father's  estate,  and  I  heard  her  tell 
Maria  once  that  she  intended  to  leave  me  all  she  had  of 
her  own,  this  place  and  a  few  thousand  a  year  in  bonds 
and  some  flats  that  are  probably  burning  up  right  now. 
I  gathered  from  the  conversation  that  father  didn  't  have 
much  left  when  he  died  and  that  it  was  understood 


26  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

mother  was  to  look  out  for  me.  I  believe  he  gave  a  lot 
to  the  others  when  he  was  wealthy. " 

1 '  Good  Lord ! ' '  Aileen  sighed  heavily.  * '  It  won 't  pay 
your  dressmakers'  bills,  what  with  taxes  and  all.  I  won't 
be  much  better  off.  We'll  have  to  marry  Rex  Roberts  or 
Bob  Cheever  or  Frank  Bascom — unless  he's  going  up  in 
smoke  too,  Olive  dear.  But  there  are  a  few  others." 

Alexina  shook  her  head.  Her  color  could  not  rise 
higher  for  her  face  was  crimson  from  the  heat ;  like  the 
others  she  had  a  wet  handkerchief  on  her  head.  *  *  There 
is  not  a  grain  of  romance  in  one  of  them,"  she  an 
nounced.  "Curious  that  the  sons  of  the  rich  nearly  al 
ways  have  round  faces,  no  particular  features,  and  a  ten 
dency  to  bulge.  I  intend  to  have  a  romance — old  style 
— good  old  style — before  the  vogue  of  the  middle-class 
realists.  There's  nothing  in  life  but  youth  and  you  only 
have  it  once.  I'm  going  to  have  a  romance  that  means 
falling  wildly,  unreasonably,  uncalculatingly  in  love. ' ' 

"You  anticipate  my  adjectives,"  said  Aileen  drily. 
"Although  not  all.  But  let  that  pass.  I'd  like  to  know 
where  you  expect  to  find  the  opposite  lead,  as  they  say 
on  the  stage.  Our  men  are  not  such  a  bad  sort,  even  the 
richest — with  a  few  exceptions,  of  course.  They  may 
hit  it  up  at  week-ends,  generally  at  the  country  clubs, 
but  they're  better  than  the  last  generation  because  their 
fathers  have  more  sense.  I  '11  bet  they  're  all  down  there 
now  fighting  the  fire  with  the  vim  of  their  grandfa 
thers.  .  .  .  But  romantic !  Good  Lord !  I  '11  marry  one  of 
them  all  right  and  glad  of  the  chance — after  I  've  had  my 
fling.  I'm  in  no  hurry.  I'd  have  outgrown  my  illu 
sions  in  any  case  by  that  time,  only  Nature  did  the  trick 
by  not  giving  me  any. ' 7 

"Don't  you  believe  there  isn't  a  man  in  all  San  "Fran 
cisco  able  to  inspire  romance."  If  Alexina  could  not 
blush  her  dark  gray  eyes  could  sparkle  and  melt.  "All 
the  men  we  meet  don't  belong  to  that  rich  group." 

"Bunch,  darling.  Where — will  you  give  us  the  point 
er? — are  to  be  found  the  romantic  knights  of  San  Fran 
cisco?  'Frisco  as  those  tiresome  Eastern  people  call  it. 
Makes  me  sick  to  think  they  are  even  now  pitying  '  poor 
'Frisco.'  Well? — I  could  beat  my  brains  and  not  call 
one  to  mind. ' ' 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  27 

"Oh!" 

"What  does  that  mean,  Alex  Groome?  When  you 
roll  up  your  eyes  like  that  you  look  like  a  love-sick  to 
mato." 

' '  Mortimer  Dwight  was  most  devoted  last  night, ' '  said 
Sibyl  Thorndyke.  "She  danced  with  him  at  least  eight 
times. ' ' 

1 '  You  must  have  sat  out  alone  to  know  what  I  was  dto- 
ing, ' '  Alexina  began  hotly,  but  Aileen  sprang  at  her  and 
gripped  her  shoulders. 

"Don't  tell  me  that  you  are  interested  in  that  cheap 
skate.  Alexina  Groome !  You ! ' ' 

* '  He 's  not  a  cheap  skate.    I  despise  your  cheap  slang. ' ' 

"He's  a  rank  nobody." 

"You  mean  he  isn't  rich.  Or  his  family  didn't  be 
long.  What  do  you  suppose  I  care  ?  I 'm  not  a  snob. " 

1  *  He  is.    A  climbing,  ingenuous,  empty-headed  snob. ' ' 

"You  are  a  snob.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  your 
self." 

"I've  a  right  to  be  a  snob  if  I  choose,  and  he  hasn't. 
My  snobbery  is  the  right  sort:  the  'I  will  maintain'  kind. 
He'd  give  all  the  hair  on  his  head  to  have  the  right  to 
that  sort  of  snobbery.  His  is"  (she  chanted  in  a  high 
light  maddening  voice)  :  "Oh,  God,  let  me  climb.  Yank 
me  up  into  the  paradise  of  San  Francisco  society.  Bur- 
lingame,  Alta,  Menlo  Park,  Atherton,  Belvidere,  San 
Rafael.  Oh,  God,  it's  awful  to  be  a  nobody,  not  to  be 
in  the  same  class  with  these  rich  fellers,  not  to  belong 
to  the  Pacific-Union  Club,  not  to  have  polo  ponies,  not 
to  belong  to  smart  golf  clubs,  to  the  Burlingame  Club. 
Not  to  get  clothes  from  New  York  and  London ' ' 

"You  keep  quiet,"  shrieked  Alexina,  who  with  diffi 
culty  refrained  from  substituting:  "You  shut  up."  She 
flung  off  Aileen 's  hands.  "What  do  you  know  about 
him  ?  He  doesn  't  like  you. ' ' 

"Never  had  a  chance  to  find  out." 

"What  can  you  know  about  him,  then?" 

1 '  Think  I  'm  blind  ?  Think  I  'm  deaf  ?  Don 't  I  know 
everything  that  goes  on  in  this  town?  Isn't  sizing-up 
my  long  suit?  And  he's  as  dull  as — as  a  fish  without 
salt.  I  sat  next  to  him  at  a  dinner,  and  all  he  could 
talk  about  was  the  people  he'd  met — our  sort,  of  course. 


28  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

And  he  was  dull  even  at  that.    He's  all  manners  and 

bluff " 

' '  You  couldn  't  draw  him  out.  He  talked  to  me. ' ' 
1 1  What  about ?  I'm  really  interested  to  know.  Every 
body  says  the  same  thing.  They  fall  for  his  dancing 
and  manners,  and — well,  yes — 1 11  admit  it — for  his  looks. 
He  even  looks  like  a  gentleman.  But  all  the  girls  say 
he  bores  'em  stiff.  They  have  to  talk  their  heads  off. 
"What  did  he  say  to  you  that  was  so  frantically  interest 
ing?" 

"Well,  of  course — we  danced  most  of  the  time/' 
"That's  just  it.    He's  inherited  the  shell  of  some  able 
old  ancestor  and  not  a  bit  of  the. skull  furniture.    Nature 
often  plays  tricks  like  that.    But  T  couldHorgive  him  for 
being  dull  if  he  weren't  such  a  damn  snob." 

"You  shan't  call  him  names.  If  he  wants  to  be  one 
of  us,  and  life  was  so  unkind  as  to — to — well,  birth  him 
on  the  outside,  I'm  sure  that's  no  crime." 

"Snobbery,"  said  Miss  Thorndyke,  who  was  intellec 
tual  at  the  moment  and  cultivating  the  phrase,  "is 
merely  a  rather  ingenuous  form  of  aspiration.  I  can't 
see  that  it  varies  except  in  kind  from  other  forms  of  am 
bition.  And  without  ambition  there  would  be  no  prog- 


i  i 


"Oh,    can   it,"   sneered   Judge   Lawton's   daughter. 

You're  all  wrong,  anyhow.  Snobbery  leads  to  the 
rocks  much  oftener  than  to  high  achievement.  I've 
heard  dad  say  so,  and  you  won't  venture  to  assert  that 
he  doesn't  know.  It  bears  about  the  same  relation  to 
progress  that  grafting  does  to  legitimate  profits.  Any 
how,  it  makes  me  sick,  and  I  'm  not  going  to  have  Alex 
falling  in  love  with  a  poor  fish " 

"Fish?"  Alexina's  voice  rose  above  a  fresh  detona 
tion.  "You  dare — and  you  think  I'm  going  to  ask  you 
whom  I  shall  fall  in  love  with?  Fish?  What  do  you 
call  those  other  shrimps  who  don 't  think  of  anything  but 
drinking  and  sport,  whether  they  attend  to  business  or 
not  ? — their  fathers  make  them,  anyhow.  And  you  want 
to  marry  one  of  them !  They  're  fish,  if  you  like. ' ' 

The  two  girls  were  glaring  at  each  other.  Gray  eyes 
were  blazing,  green  eyes  snapping.  Two  sets  of  white 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  29 

even  teeth  were  bared.  They  looked  like  a  couple  of 
belligerent  puppies.  Another  moment  and  they  would 
have  forgotten  the  sacred  traditions  of  their  class  and 
flown  at  each  other's  hair.  But  Miss  Bascom  interposed. 
Even  the  loss  of  her  uninsured  million  did  not  ruffle 
her,  for  she  had  another  in  Government  and  railroad 
bonds,  and  full  confidence  in  her  brother,  who  was  an 
admirable  business  man,  and  not  in  the  least  dissipated. 

"Come,  come,"  she  said.  "It's  much  too  hot  to  fight. 
Dwight  is  not  good  enough  for  Alex — from  a  worldly 
point  of  view,  I  mean/'  as  Alexina  made  a  movement  in 
her  direction.  "We  should  none  of  us  marry  out  of  our 
class.  It  never  works,  somehow.  But  Mr.  Dwight  is 
really  quite  all  right  otherwise.  I  like  him  very  much, 
Alex  darling,  and  I  don't  mind  his  being  an  outsider  in 
the  least — so  long  as  he  doesn't  try  to  marry  one  of  us. 
He's  too  good-looking,  and  his  heels  are  fairly  inspired. 
No  one  questions  the  fact  that  he  is  an  honorable  and 
worthy  young  man,  working  like  a  real  man  to  earn  his 
living.  It  isn't  at  all  as  if  he  were  an  adventurer.  He 
has  never  struck  me  as  being  more  of  a  snob  than  most 
people,  and  I  don't  see  why  I  haven't  thought  to  ask 
him  down  to  San  Mateo  for  a  week-end." 

"You'll  certainly  have  a  friend  for  life  if  you  do," 
said  Aileen  satirically.  ' '  Fall  in  love  with  him  yourself 
if  you  choose.  You  can  afford  it. ' ' 

"No  fear.  I've  made  up  my  mind.  I'm  going  to 
marry  a  French  marquis. ' ' 

"What?"  Even  Alexina  forgot  Mortimer  Dwight. 
"Who  is  he?  Where  did  you  meet  him?" 

"I  haven't  met  him  yet.  But  I  shall.  I'm  going  to 
Paris  next  winter  to  visit  my  aunt,  and  I'll  find  one 
You  get  anything  in  this  world  you  go  f or  Jhard  enough 
To  be  a  French  marquise  Is  the  most  romantkf  thing  in 
the  world." 

"Why  not  Elton  Gwynne?  It's  an  open  secret  that 
he's  an  English  marquis.  Or  that  young  Gathbroke 
Lady  Victoria  brought  last  night?" 

"He's  a  younger  son,  and  he  never  looked  at  any  one 
but  Alex.  And  Isabel  Otis  has  preempted  Mr.  Gwynne. 
And  I  adore  France  and  don't  care  about  England." 


30  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

"Well,  that  is  romantic  if  you  like!"  cried  Aileen,  her 
green  eyes  dancing.  * l  You  have  my  best  wishes.  Doesn  't 
it  make  your  Geary  Street  knight  look  cheap — he  boards 
somewhere  down  on  Geary  Street ' ' 

"No,  it  doesn't!  And  I 'm  a  good  American.  French 
marquis,  indeed!  Mr.  Dwight  comes  of  the  best  old 
American  stock  in  New  York.  He  told  mother  so.  I'd 
spit  on  any  old  decadent  European  title." 

"I  wish  your  mother  could  hear  you.  So — he's  been 
getting  round  her,  has  he  ?  Where  on  earth  did  he  meet 
her?" 

Alexina,  with  sulky  triumph,  reported  Mr.  Dwight 's 
early  visit  and  the  favorable  impression  he  had  made. 

Aileen  groaned.  ' '  That 's  just  the  one  thing  she  would 
fall  for  in  a  rank  outsider — superlative  manners.  His 
being  poor  is  rather  in  his  favor.  1 11  put  a  flea  in  her 
ear " 

"You  dare!" 

Aileen  lifted  her  shoulders.  "Well,  as  a  matter  of 
fact  I  can't.  Tattling  just  isn't  in  my  line.  But  if  I 
can  queer  him  with  you  I  will." 

"I  won't  talk  about  him  any  more."  Alexina  drew 
herself  up  with  immense  dignity.  She  had  the  advan 
tage  of  Aileen  not  only  in  inches  but  in  a  natural  repose 
of  manner.  The  eminent  Judge  Lawton's  only  child, 
upon  whom,  possibly,  he  may  have  lavished  too  much 
education,  had  a  thin  nervous  little  body  that  was  sel 
dom  in  repose,  and  her  face,  with  its  keen  irregular  fea 
tures  and  brilliant  green  eyes,  shifted  its  surface  im 
pressions  as  rapidly  as  a  cingmajtograph.  Olive  Bas- 
com  had  soft  blue  eyes  and  abundant  brown  hair,  and 
Sibyl  Thorndyke  had  learned  to  hold  her  long  black 
eyes  half  closed,  and  had  the  black  hair  arid  rich  com 
plexion  of  a  Creole  great-grandmother.  Alexina  was  ad 
mittedly  the  ' '  beauty  of  the  bunch. ' '  Nevertheless,  Miss 
Lawton  had  informed  her  doting  parent  before  this,  her 
first  season,  was  half  over,  that  she  was  vivid  enough  to 
hold  her  own  with  the  best  of  them.  The  boys  said  she 
was  a  live  wire  and  she  preferred  that  high  specializa 
tion  to  the  tameness  of  mere  beauty. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  31 

IV 

Said  Alexina :  ' '  Sibyl,  what  are  you  going  to  do  with 
your  young  life?  Shall  you  marry  an  English  duke  or 
a  New  York  millionaire  ? ' ' 

But  Miss  Thorndyke  smiled  mysteriously.  She  was  not 
as  frank  as  the  other  girls,  although  by  no  means  as 
opaque  as  she  imagined. 

Aileen  laughed.  "Oh,  don't  ask  her.  Doubt  if  she 
knows.  To-day  she 's  all  for  being  intellectual  and  read 
ing  those  damn  dull  Russian  novelists.  To-morrow  she 
may  be  setting  up  as  an  odalisque.  It  would  suit  hjer 
style  better." 

Miss  Thorndyke 's  face  was  also  crimson  from  the  heat, 
but  she  would  not  have  flushed  had  it  been  the  day  be 
fore.  She  was  not  subject  to  sudden  reflexes. 

''Your  satire  is  always  a  bit  clumsy,  dear,"  she  said 
sweetly.  '  *  The  odalisque  is  not  your  role  at  all  events. ' ' 

"I  don't  go  in  for  roles." 

And  the  four  girls  wrangled  and  dreamed  and  planned, 
while  a  city  burnt  beneath  them;  some  three  hundred 
million  dollars  flamed  out,  lives  were  ruined,  extermi 
nated,  altered;  and  Labor  sat  on  the  hills  and  smiled 
cynically  at  the  tremendous  impetus  the  earth  had 
handed  them  on  that  morning  of  April  eighteenth,  nine 
teen  hundred  and  six. 

They  were  too  young  to  know  or  to  care.  When  the 
imagination  is  trying  its  wings  it  is  undismayed  even 
by  a  world  at  war. 


CHAPTER  V 


'"FHAT  night    Alexina  knew  that  romance  had  surely 
*    come  to  her.     She  shared   her  room  with  three  old 
ladies  who  slept  fitfully  between  blasts  of  dynamite.  But 
she  sat  at  the  window  with  no  desire  for  oblivion. 

On  the  lawn  paced  a  young  man  with  a  rifle  in  the 


32  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

crook  of  his  arm.  He  was  tall  and  young  and  very  gal 
lant  of  bearing ;  no  less  a  person  than  Mortimer  Dwight, 
who  had  been  sworn  in  that  morning  as  a  member  of  the 
Citizens'  Patrol,  and  at  his  own  request  detailed  to  keep 
watch  over  the  house  of  Mrs.  Groome. 

He  had  not  been  able  to  pay  his  promised  visits  during 
the  day  but  had  arrived  at  seven  o'clock,  dining  beside 
Mrs.  Abbott,  and  surrounded  by  old  ladies  whose  names 
were  as  historic  as  Mrs.  Groome 's.  The  cook  had  de 
serted  after  the  second  heavy  shock,  and,  with  her  ward 
robe  in  a  pillow  case,  had  tramped  to  the  farthest  con 
fines  of  the  Presidio.  It  was  not  fear  alone  that  induced 
her  flight.  There  was  a  rumor  that  the  Government 
would  feed  the  city,  and  why  should  not  a  hard-working 
woman  enjoy  a  month  or  two  of  sheer  idleness!  Let  the 
quality  cook  for  themselves.  It  would  do  them  good. 

James  and  the  housemaid  had  cooked  the  dinner,  and 
Alexina  and  her  friends  waited  on  the  table.  Then  the 
girls,  to  Alexina 's  relief,  went  home  to  inquire  after  their 
families,  and  she  accompanied  Mr.  Dwight  while  he  ex 
plored  every  corner  of  the  grounds  to  make  sure  that  no 
potential  thieves  lurked  in  the  heavy  shadows  cast  by 
the  trees. 

He  had  been  very  alert  and  thorough  and  Alexina 
admired  him  consumedly.  There  was  no  question  but 
that  he  was  one  of  those  men — Aileen  called  it  the  one 
hundred  per  cent  male — upon  whose  clear  brain  and 
strong  arm  a  woman  might  depend  even  in  the  midst  of 
an  infuriated  mob.  He  had  an  opportunity  that  comes 
to  few  aspiring  young  men  born  into  the  world 's  unblest 
millions,  and  if  he  made  the  most  of  it  he  was  equally 
assured  that  he  was  acting  in  strict  accord  with  the  in 
stincts  and  characteristics  that  had  descended  upon  hinr 
by  the  grace  of  God. 


There  was  no  physical  cowardice  in  him;  and  if  he 
would  have  preferred  a  life  of  ease  and  splendor,  he  had 
no  illusions  regarding  the  amount  of  "hustling"  neces 
sary  to  carry  him  to  the  goal  of  his  desires  and  ambi 
tions — unless  he  made  a  lucky  strike.  He  played  the 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  33 

stock  market  in  a  small  way  and  made  a  few  hundred 
dollars  now  and  then. 

He  would  have  been  glad  to  marry  a  wealthy  girl,  Olive 
Bascom,  by  preference,  for  he  had  an  inner  urge  to  the 
short  cut,  but  he  had  found  these  spoiled  daughters  of 
San  Francisco  unresponsive  .  .  .  and  then,  suddenly,  he 
had  fallen  in  love  with  Alexina  Groome. 

His  past  was  green  and  prophylactic.  He  was  moral 
both  by  inheritance  and  necessity,  and  his  parents,  peo 
ple  of  fair  intelligence,  if  rather  ineffective,  stern  prin 
ciples,  and  good  old  average  ideals,  had  taken  their  re 
sponsibilities  toward  their  two  children  very  seriously. 
People  who  talked  with  young  Dwight  might  not  find 
him  resourceful  in  conversation  but  they  were  deeply 
impressed  with  his  manners  and  principles.  The  younger 
men,  with  the  exception  of  Bob  Cheever,  who  respected 
his  capacity  for  work,  did  not  take  to  him ;  principally, 
no  doubt,  he  reflected  with  some  bitterness,  because  he 
was  not  "their  sort." 

He  never  admitted  to  himself  that  he  was  a  snob,  for 

^something  deep  and  s^till_unfaced  in  his  consciousness, 
bade  him  see  as  litti^fault  in  himself  as  possible,  for 
bade  him  to  admit  the  contingency  of  a  failure,  impelled 
him  to  call  such  weaknesses  as  the  fortunate  condemned 
by  some  one  of  those  interchangeable  terms  with  which 
the  lexicons  are  so  generous. 

But  if  he  would  not  face  the  word  snob  he  told  him 
self  proudly -that  he  was  ambitious;  and  why  should  he 

*not  aspire  to  the  best  society  ?  Was  he  not  entitled  to  it  by 
birth  ?  His  family  may  not  have  been  prominent  to  excess 
in  Utica,  but  it  was  indisputably { '  old. ' '  However,  he  as 
sured  himself  that  the  chief  reason  for  his  determination 
to  mingle  with  the  social  elect  of  San  Francisco  was  not 
so  much  a  tribute  to  his  ancestors,  or  even  the  insistence 
of  youth  for  the  decent  pleasures  of  that  brief  period, 
but  because  of  the  opportunities  to  make  those  friends 
indispensable  to  every  young  man  forced  to  cut  his  own 
way  through  life.  Even  if  his  good  conscience  had  com 
pelled  him  to  admit  that  he  was  a  snob  he  would  have 
reminded  it  there  was  no  harm  in  snobbery  anyway.  It 
was  the  most  amiable  of  the  vices.  But  he  thought  too 


34  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

well  of  himself  for  any  such  admission,  and  his  mind 
had  not  been  trained  to  fish,  even  in  shallow  waters. 

Nor  did  he  admit  that  if  the  lovely  Miss  Groome  had 
been  a  stenographer  he  would  not  have  looked  at  her. 
He  would  indeed  have  turned  his  face  resolutely  in  the 
other  direction  if  she  had  happened  to  sit  in  his  em 
ployer's  office.  Fate  forbade  him  a  marriage  of  that 
sort,  and  dalliance  with  an  inferior  was  forbidden  both 
by  his  morals  and  his  social  integrity. 

But  that  Alexina  Groome  should  be  beautiful,  as  ex- 
altedly  born  as  only  a  San  Franciscan  of  the  old  stock 
might  be,  with  a  determinate  income,  however  modest,  with 
a  background  of  friendly  males,  as  substantial  financially 
as  socially,  who  would  be  sure  to  give  a  new  member  of 
the  family  a  leg-up  (he  liked,  the  atmosphere  and  flavor 
of  the  lighter  English  novels),  and,  above  all,  responsive, 
seemed  to  him  a  direct  reward  for  the  circumspect  life 
he  had  lived,  and  his  fidelity  to  his  chosen  upward  path. 


m 

He  was  free  to  fall  in  love  as  profoundly  as  was  in 
him,  and  during  that  early  hour  of  the  agitated  night, 
with  that  pit  of  hell  roaring  below  to  the  steady  under 
tone  of  a  thousand  tramping  feet,  he  felt,  despite  the 
fact  that  all  business  was  moribund  for  the  present  and 
his  savings  were  in  the  hot  vaults  of  a  dynamited  bank, 
that  he  was  a  supremely  fortunate  young  man. 

Moreover,  this  disaster  furnished  a  steady  topic  for 
conversation.  He  was  aware  that  he  contributed  little 
froth  and  less  substance  to  a  dinner  table,  that,  in  short, 
he  did  not  keep  up  his  end.  Although  he  assured  him 
self  that  small  talk  was  beneath  a  man  of  serious  pur 
pose,  and  that  no  one  could  acquire  it  anyhow  in  society 
unless  addicted  to  sport,  still  there  had  been  times  when 
he  was  painfully  aware  that  a  dinner  partner  or  some 
bright  charming  creature  whose  invitation  to  call  he  had 
accepted,  looked  politely  bored  or  chattered  desperately 
to  cover  the  silences  into  which  he  abruptly  relapsed; 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  35 

when,  "for  the  life  of  him  he  had  not  been  able  to  think 
of  a  thing  to  say. ' ' 

Then,  briefly,  he  had  felt  a  bitter  rebellion  at  fate  for 
having  denied  him  the  gift  of  a  lively  and  supple  mind, 
as  well  as  those  numberless  worldly  benefits  lavished  on 
men  far  less  deserving  than  he. 

He  felt  dull  and  depressed  after  such  revelations  and 
sometimes  considered  attending  evening  lectures  at  the 
University  of  California  with  his  sister.  But  for  this 
form,  of  mental  exertion  he  had  no  taste,  keenly  as  he 
applied  himself  to  his  work  during  the  hours  of  business ; 
and  he  assured  himself  that  such  knowledge  would  do 
him  no  good  anyway.  It  did  not  seem  to  be  prevalent  in 
society.  If  he  had  been  a  brilliant  hand  at  bridge  or 
poker,  the  inner  fortifications  of  society  would  have  gone 
down  before  him,  but  his  courage  did  not  run  to  card 
gambling  with  wealthy  idlers  who  set  their  own  pace. 
On  the  stock  market  he  could  step  warily  and  no  one  the 
wiser.  It  would  have  horrified  him  to  be  called  a  piker, 
for  his  instincts  were  really  lavish,  and  the  economical 
habit  an  achievement  in  which  he  took  a  resentful  pride. 


IV 

On  this  evening  he  had  talked  almost  incessantly  to 
Alexina,  and  she,  in  the  vocabulary  of  her  years  and  set, 
had  thought  him  frantically  interesting  as  he  described 
the  immediate  command  of  the  city  assumed  by  General 
Funston,  the  efforts  of  the  Committee  of  Fifty,  formed 
early  that  morning  by  leading  citizens,  to  help  preserve 
order  and  to  give  assistance  to  the  refugees;  of  rich 
young  men,  and  middle-aged  citizens  who  had  not  spent 
an  afternoon  away  from  their  club  window  for  ten  years, 
carrying  dynamite  in  their  cars  through  the  very  flames ; 
of  wild  and  terrible  episodes  he  had  witnessed  or  heard 
of  during  the  day. 

His  brain  was  hot  from  the  mental  and  physical  at 
mosphere  of  the  perishing  city,  the  unique  excitement  of 
the  day :  when  he  had  felt  as  if  snatched  from  his  quiet 
pasture  by  the  roots ;  and  by  the  extraordinary  good  for 
tune  that  had  delivered  this  perfect  girl  and  her  formid- 


36  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

able  parent  almost  into  his  hands.  Under  his  sternly 
controlled  exterior  his  spirits  sang  wildly  that  his  luck 
had  turned,  and  dazzling  visions  of  swift  success  and 
fulfillment  of  all  ambitions  snapped  on  and  off  in  his 
stimulated  brain. 

Alexina  thought  him  not  only  immoderately  fascinat 
ing  in  his  appeal  to  her  own  imperious  youth,  but  the 
most  interesting  life  partner  that  a  romantic  maiden 
with  secret  intellectual  promptings  could  demand.  Her 
brilliant  long  eyes  melted  and  flashed,  her  soft  unformed 
mouth  wore  a  constant  alluring  smile. 

A  declaration  trembled  on  his  tongue,  but  he  felt  that 
he  would  be  taking  an  unfair  advantage  and  restrained 
himself.  Besides,  he  wished  to  win  Mrs.  Groome  com 
pletely  to  his  side,  to  say  nothing  of  the  still  more  alarm 
ing  because  more  worldly  Mrs.  Abbott.  She  was  a  snob, 
if  you  like ! 


At  nine  o'clock,  after  he  had  given  the  inmates  of  the 
house  and  outbuildings  stern  orders  not  to  light  a  candle 
or  lamp  under  any  circumstances — such  was  the  emer 
gency  law — he  bade  Alexina  a  gallant  good-night,  and 
betook  himself  to  the  lawn  within  the  grove  of  sighing 
eucalyptus  trees,  to  pace  up  and  down,  his  rifle  in  his 
arm,  his  eyes  alert,  and  quite  aware  of  the  admiring 
young  princess  at  the  casement  above. 

He  did  his  work  very  thoroughly,  visiting  outhouses 
at  intervals  and  sharply  inspecting  the  weary  occupants, 
as  well  as  the  prostrate  forms  under  the  trees.  They 
were  all  far  too  tired  and  apprehensive  to  dream  of 
breaking  into  the  house  that  had  given  them  hospitality, 
even  had  they  been  villains,  which  they  were  not. 

But  they  did  not  resent  his  inspection;  rather  they 
felt  a  sense  of  security  in  this  watching  manly  figure 
with  the  gun,  for  they  were  rather  afraid  of  villains 
themselves:  it  was  reported  that  many  looters  had  been 
stood  against  hissing  walls  and  shot  by  the  stern  orders 
of  General  Funston.  They  asked  their  more  immediate 
protector  questions  as  to  the  progress  of  the  fire,  which 
he  answered  curtly,  as  befitted  his  office. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  37 


CHAPTER  VI 


]\/f  KS.  ABBOTT  entered  Alexina 's  room  and  caught 
•*••*•  her  hanging  out  of  the  window.  She  had  motored 
up  to  the  city  during  the  afternoon,  and,  after  a  vain 
attempt  to  persuade  her  mother  to  go  down  at  once  to 
Alta,  had  concluded  to  remain  over  night.  The  spec 
tacle  was  the  most  horrifyingly  interesting  she  had  ever 
witnessed  in  her  temperate  life,  and  her  self-denying 
Aunt  Clara  was  in  charge  of  the  children.  Her  husband 
had  driven  himself  to  town  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the 
fire  and  been  sworn  in  a  member  of  the  Committee  of 
Fifty. 

'  *  Darling, ' '  she  said  firmly  to  the  sister  who  was  little 
older  than  her  first-born,  "I  want  to  have  a  talk  with 
you.  Come  into  papa's  old  dressing-room.  I  had  a  cot 
put  there,  and  as  there  is  no  room  for  another  I  am  quite 
alone/' 

Alexina  followed  with  lagging  feet.  She  had  always 
given  her  elder  sister  the  same  surface  obedience  that 
she  gave  her  mother.  It  " saved  trouble."  But  life  had 
changed  so  since  morning  that  she  was  in  no  mood  to 
keep  up  the  role  of  "little  sister,"  sweet  and  malleable 
and  innocent  as  a  Ballinger-Oroome  at  the  age  of 
eighteen  should  be. 

ii 

She  dropped  on  the  floor  and  embraced  her  knees  with 
her  arms.  Mrs.  Abbott  seated  herself  in  as  dignified  an 
attitude  as  was  possible  on  the  edge  of  the  cot.  Even 
the  rocking-chairs  had  been  taken  down  to  the  dining- 
room. 

"Well?"  queried  Alexina,  pretending  to  stifle  a  yawn. 
' '  What  is  it  ?  I  am  too  sleepy  to  think. ' ' 

"Sleepy?  You  looked  sleepy  with  your  eyes  like 
saucers  watching  that  young  man." 

"Everybody  that  can  is  watching  the  fire " 


38  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

" Don't  quibble,  Alexina.  You  are  naturally  a  truth 
ful  child.  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  were  not  watch 
ing  Mr.  Dwight  ?" 

''Well,  if  I  say  yes,  it  is  not  because  I  care  a  hang 
about  living  up  to  my  reputation,  but  because  I  don't 
care  whether  you  know  it  or  not. ' ' 

"That  is  very  naughty " 

' '  Stop  talking  to  me  as  if  I  were  a  child. ' ' 
"You  are  excited,  darling,  and  no  wonder." 
Maria  Abbott  was  in  the  process  of  raising  a  family 
and  she  did  it  with  tact  and  firmness.  Nature  had  done 
much  to  assist  her  in  her  several  difficult  roles.  She 
was  very  tall  straight  and  slender,  with  a  haughty  little 
head,  as  perfect  in  shape  as  Alexina 's,  set  well  back  on 
her  shoulders,  and  what  had  been  known  in  her  Grand 
mother  Ballinger's  day  as  a  cameo-profile.  Her  abun 
dant  fair  hair  added  to  the  high  calm  of  her  mien  and 
it  was  always  arranged  in  the  prevailing  fashion.  On 
the  street  she  invariably  wore  the  tailored  suit,  and  her 
tailor  was  the  best  in  New  York.  She  thought  blouses  in 
public  indecent,  and  wore  shirtwaists  of  linen  or  silk 
with  high  collars,  made  by  the  same  master-hand.  There 
was  nothing  masculine  in  her  appearance,  but  she  prided 
herself  upon  being  the  best  groomed  woman  even  in  that 
small  circle  of  her  city  that  dressed  as  well  as  the  fashion 
able  women  of  New  York.  At  balls  and  receptions  she 
wore  gowns  of  an  austere  but  expensive  simplicity,  and 
as  the  simple  jewels  of  her  inheritance  looked  pathetic 
beside  the  blazing  necklaces  and  sunbursts  (there  were 
only  two  or  three  tiaras  in  San  Francisco)  of  those  new 
people  whom  she  both  deplored  and  envied,  she  wore 
none;  and  she  was  assured  that  the  lack  added  to  the 
distinction  of  her  appearance. 

But  although  she  felt  it  almost  a  religious  duty  to  be 
smart,  determined  as  she  was  that  the  plutocracy  should 
never,  while  she  was  alive,  push  the  aristocracy  through 
the  wall  and  out  of  sight,  she  was  a  strict  conformer  to 
the  old  tradition  that  had  looked  upon  all  arts  to  enhance 
and  preserve  youth  as  the  converse  of  respectable.  Her 
once  delicate  pink  and  white  skin  was  wrinkled  and 
weather-beaten,  her  nose  had  never  known  powder;  but 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  39 

even  in  the  glare  of  the  fire  her  skin  looked  cool  and  pale, 
for  the  heat  had  not  crimsoned  her.  Her  blood  was 
rather  thin  and  she  prided  herself  upon  the  fact.  She 
may  have  lost  her  early  beauty,  but  she  looked  the  in 
dubitable  aristocrat,  the  lady  born,  as  her  more  naive 
grandmothers  would  have  phrased  it. 
It  sufficed. 

m 

By  those  that  did  not  have  the  privilege  of  her  inti 
mate  acquaintance  she  was  called  ' '  stuck-up, ' '  * '  a  snob, ' ' 
a  mid-vietorian  who  ought  to  dress  like  her  more  con 
sistent  mother,  "rather  a  fool,  if  the  truth  were  known, 
no  doubt." 

In  reality  she  was  a  tender-hearted  and  anxious 
mother,  daughter,  and  sister,  and  an  impeccable  wife,  if 
a  somewhat  monotonous  one.  At  all  events  her  husband 
never  found  fault  with  her  in  public  or  private.  He  had 
his  reasons.  To  the  friends  of  her  youth  and  to  all 
members  of  her  own  old  set,  she  was  intensely  loyal ;  and 
although  she  had  a  cold  contempt  for  the  institution  of 
divorce,  if  one  of  that  select  band  strayed  into  it,  no 
matter  at  which  end,  her  loyalty  rose  triumphant  above 
her  social  code,  and  she  was  not  afraid  to  express  it 
publicly. 

Toward  Alexina  she  felt  less  a  sister  than  a  second 
mother,  and  gave  her  freely  of  her  abundant  maternal 
reservoir.  That  "little  sister"  had  at  times  sulked 
under  this  proud  determination  to  assist  in  the  bringing- 
up  of  the  last  of  the  Ballinger-Groomes,  did  not  discour 
age  her.  She  might  be  soft  in  her  affections  but  she 
never  swerved  from  her  duty  as  she  saw  it.  Alexina 
was  a  darling  wayward  child,  who  only  needed  a  firm 
hand  to  guide  her  along  that  proud  secluded  old  avenue 
of  the  city's  elect,  until  she  had  ambled  safely  to  estab 
lished  respectability  and  power. 

She  had  been  alarmed  at  one  time  at  certain  symp 
toms  of  cleverness  she  noticed  in  the  child,  and  at  cer 
tain  enthusiastic  remarks  in  the  letters  of  Ballinger 
Groome,  with  whose  family  Alexina  had  spent  her  vaca 
tions  during  her  two  years  in  New  York  at  school.  But 


40  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

there  had  been  no  evidence  of  anything  but  a  young 
girl 's  natural  love  of  pleasure  since  her  debut  in  society, 
and  she  was  quite  unaware  of  Alexina's  wicked  divaga 
tions.  She  had  spent  the  winter  in  Santa  Barbara,  for 
the  benefit  of  her  oldest  boy,  whose  lungs  were  delicate, 
and,  like  her  mother,  never  deigned  to  read  the  society 
columns  of  the  newspapers.  Her  reason,  however,  was 
her  own.  In  spite  of  her  blood,  her  indisputable  posi 
tion,  her  style,  she  cut  but  a  small  figure  in  those  col 
umns.  She  was  not  rich  enough  to  vie  with  those  who 
entertained  constantly,  and  was  merely  set  down  as  one 
of  many  guests.  The  fact  induced  a  slight  bitterness. 


IV 

She  began  tactfully.  "I  like  this  young  Mr.  Dwight 
very  much,  and  shall  ask  him  down,  as  mother  desires  it. 
But  I  hope,  darling,  that  you  will  follow  my  example 
and  not  marry  until  you  have  had  four  years  of  society, 
in  other  words  have  seen  something  of  the  world " 

* '  California  is  not  the  world. ' ' 

' '  Society,  in  other  words  human  nature,  is  everywhere 
much  alike.  As  you  know,  I  spent  a  year  in  England 
when  I  was  a  young  lady,  and  was  presented  at  court — 
by  Lady  Barnstable,  who  was  Lee  Tarlton,  one  of  us. 
It  was  merely  San  Francisco  on  a  large  scale,  with  titles, 
and  greater  and  older  houses  and  parks,  and  more  jewels, 
and  more  arrogance,  and  everything  much  grander,  of 
course.  And  they  talked  politics  a  great  deal,  which 
bored  me  as  I  am  sure  they  would  bore  you.  The  beauty 
of  our  society  is  its  simplicity  and  lack  of  arrogance — 
consciousness  of  birth  or  of  wealth.  Even  the  more 
recent  members  of  society,  who  owe  their  position  to 
their  fortunes,  have  a  simplicity  and  kindness  quite 
unknown  in  New  York.  Eastern  people  always  remark 
it.  And  yet,  owing  to  their  constant  visits  to  the  East 
and  to  Europe,  they  know  all  of  the  world  there  is  to 
know. ' ' 

"So  do  the  young  men,  I  suppose !    I  never  heard  of 

their  doing  much  traveling " 

I  should  call  them  remarkably  sophisticated  young 


1 1 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  41 

men.  But  the  point  is,  darling,  that  if  you  wait  as  long 
as  I  did  you  will  discover  that  the  men  who  attract  a 
girl  in  her  first  season  would  bore  her  to  extinction  in 
her  fourth." 

''You  mean  after  I've  had  all  the  bloom  rubbed  off, 
and  men  are  forgetting  to  ask  me  to  dance.  Then  I'll 
be  much  more  likely  to  take  what  I  can  get.  I  want  to 
marry  with  all  the  bloom  on  and  all  my  illusions  fresh." 

' '  But  should  you  like  to  have  them  rubbed  off  by  your 
husband  ?  You  've  heard  the  old  adage :  '  marry  in  haste 
and  repent '  ' 

"I've  been  brought  up  on  adages.  They  are  called 
bromides  now.  As  for  illusions,  everybody  says  they 
don't  last  anyway.  I'd  rather  have  them  dispelled  after 
a  long  wonderful  honeymoon  by  a  husband  than  by  a  lot 
of  flirtations  in  a  conservatory  and  in  dark  corners ' ' 

"Good  heavens!  Do  you  suppose  that  I  flirted  in  a 
conservatory  and  in  dark  corners?" 

"I'll  bet  you  didn't,  but  lots  do.  And  in  the  haute 
noblesse,  the  ancient  aristocracy !  I  've  seen  'em. ' ' 

"It  isn't  possible  that  you " 

' '  Oh,  no,  I  love  to  dance  too  much.  But  I  'm  not  easily 
shocked.  I'll  tell  you  that  right  here.  And  I'll  tell  you 
what  I  confessed  to  mother  this  morning." 


"When  she  had  finished  Mrs.  Abbott  sat  for  a  few  mo 
ments  petrified ;  but  she  was  thirty-eight,  not  sixty-five, 
and  there  was  neither  dismay  nor  softening  in  her  nar 
rowed  light  blue  eyes. 

' l  But  that  is  abominable !    Abominable ! ' ' 
And  Alexina,  who  was  prepared  for  a  scolding,  shrank 
a  little,  for  it  was  the  first  time  that  her  doting  sister 
had  spoken  to  her  with  severity. 

"I  don't  care,"  she  said  stubbornly,  and  she  set  her 
soft  lips  until  they  looked  stern  and  hard. 
"But  you  must  care.    You  are  a  Groome." 
"Oh,  yes,  and  a  Ballinger,  and  a  Geary,  and  all  the 
rest  of  it.    But  I  'm  also  going  to  annex  another  name  of 


42  THE  SISTERS-IX-LAW 

my  own  choosing.  1 11  marry  whom  I  damn  please,  and 
that  is  the  end  of  it." 

"Alexina  Groome!"  Mrs.  Abbott  arose  in  her  wrath. 
"Cannot  you  see  for  yourself  what  association  with  all 
these  common  people  has  done  to  you?  It's  the  influ 
ence " 

"Of  two  years  in  New  York  principally.  The  girls 
there  are  as  hard  as  nails — try  to  imitate  the  English. 
Ours  are  not  a  patch,  not  even  Aileen,  although  she  does 
her  best.  But  I  hadn't  finished — I  even  powder  my 
face."  Alexina  grinned  up  at  her  still  rudderless  sister. 
' '  After  mother  is  asleep  and  I  am  ready  to  slip  out. ' ' 

'  *  I  thought  you  were  safe  in  New  York  under  the  eyes 
of  Ballinger  and  Geary,  or  rather  of  Mattie  and  Char 
lotte.  They  are  such  earnest  good  women,  so  interested 
in  charities " 

' '  Deadly.    But  you  don 't  know  the  girls. ' ' 

"And  I  have  told  mother  again  and  again  that  she 
should  not  permit  you  to  associate  with  Aileen  Lawton." 

"She  can't  help  herself.  Aileen  is  one  of  us.  Be 
sides,  mother  is  devoted  to  the  Judge." 

' l  But  powder !  None  of  us  has  ever  put  anything  but 
clean  cold  water  on  her  face." 

"You'd  look  a  long  sight  better  if  you  did.  Cold 
cream,  too.  You  wouldn't  have  any  wrinkles  at  your 
age,  if  you  weren't  so  damn  respectable — aristocratic, 
you  call  it.  It's  just  middle  class.  And  as  out  of  date 
as  speech  without  slang.  As  for  me,  I'd  paint  my  lips 
as  Aileen  does,  only  I  don't  like  the  taste,  and  they're 
too  red,  anyhow.  It's  much  smarter  to  make  up  than 
not  to.  Times  change.  You  don't  wear  hoopskirts  be 
cause  our  magnificent  Grandmother  Ballinger  did.  You 
dress  as  smartly  as  the  Burlingame  crowd.  Why  does 
your  soul  turn  green  at  make-up  ?  All  these  people  you 
look  down  upon  because  our  families  were  rich  and 
important  in  the  fifties  are  more  up-to-date  than  you 
are,  although  I  will  admit  that  none  of  them  has  the 
woman-of-the-world  air  of  the  smartest  New  York  women 
— not  that  terribly  respectable  inner  set  in  New  York — 
Aunt  Mattie 's  and  Aunt  Charlotte's — that  just  revels 
in  looking  mid- Victorian.  .  .  .  The  newer  people  I  've  met 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  43 

here — their  manners  are  just  as  good  as  ours,  if  not 
better,  for,  as  you  said  just  now,  they  don't  put  on  airs. 
You  do,  darling.  You  don 't  know  it,  hut  you  would  put 
an  English  duchess  to  the  blush,  when  you  suddenly 
remember  who  you  are " 

Mrs.  Abbott  had  resumed  her  seat  on  the  cot.  ' '  If  you 
have  finished  criticizing  your  elder  sister,  I  should  like 
to  ask  you  a  few  questions.  Do  you  smoke  and  drink 
cocktails  ? ' ' 

"No,  I  don't.  But  I  should  if  I  liked  them,  and  if 
they  didn  't  make  me  feel  queer. ' ' 

1 '  You — -you ' '  Mrs.  Abbott 's  clear  crisp  voice  sank 

to  an  ago  Jfeed  whisper.  For  the  first  time  she  was  really 
termed.  ' '  Do  you  gamble  ? ' ' 

'^Vhy,  of  course  not.  I  have  too  much  fun  to  think 
of  anything  so  stupid. ' ' 

"Does  Aileen  Lawton  gamble?" 

"She  just  doesn't,  and  don't  you  insinuate  su«h  a 
thing." 

"She  has  bad  blood  in  her.    Her  mother " 

"I  thought  her  mother  was  your  best  friend." 

"She  was.  But  she  went  to  pieces,  poor  dear,  and 
Judge  Lawton  wisely  sent  her  East.  I  can't  tell  you 
why.  There  are  things  you  don't  understand." 

"Oh,  don't  I?    Don't  you  fool  yourself." 

Mrs.  Abbott  leaned  back  on  the  cot  and  pressed  it 
hard  with  either  hand. 

"Alexina,  I  have  never  been  as  disturbed  as  I  am  at 
this  moment.  When  Sally  and  I  were  your  age,  we  were 
beautifully  innocent.  If  I  thought  that  Joan " 

"Oh,  Joan '11  get  away  from  you.  She's  only  fourteen 
now,  but  when  she 's  my  age — well,  I  guess  you  and  your 
old  crowd  are  the  last  of  the  Mohicans.  I  doubt  if 
there'll  even  be  any  chaperons  left.  Joan  may  not  smoke 
nor  drink.  Who  cares  for  i vices/  anyhow?  But  you 
haven't  got  a  moat  and  drawbridge  round  Rincona,  and 
she'll  just  get  out  and  mix.  She'll  float  with  the  stream 
— and  all  streams  lead  to  Burlingame." 

"I  have  no  fear  about  Joan,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott,  with 
dignity.  "Four  years  are  a  long  time.  I  shall  sow 
seeds,  and  she  is  a  born  Ballinger — I  am  dreadfully 


44  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

afraid  that  my  dear  father  is  coming  out  in  you.    Even 
the  boys  are  Ballingers " 


VI 

"Tell  me  about  father?"  coaxed  Alexina,  who  was 
repentant,  now  that  the  excitement  of  the  day  had 
reached  its  climax  in  the  baiting  of  her  admirable  sister 
and  was  rapidly  subsiding.  "Mother  let  fall  something 
this  morning ;  and  once  Aileen  ...  she  began,  but  shut 
up  like  a  clam.  Was  he  so  very  dreadful  ? ' ' 

* '  Well,  since  you  know  so  much,  he  was  what  is  called 
fast.  Married  men  of  his  position  often  were  In  his  day 
— quite  openly.  Yesterday,  I  should  have  hesitated — y" 

"Fire  away.  Don't  mind  me.  Yes,  I  know  whatTast 
is.  Lots  of  men  are  to-day.  Even  members  of  the 
A.  A." 

"A.  A.?" 

"Ancient  Aristocracy.  The  kind  England  and  France 
would  like  to  have." 

"  I  'm  ashamed  of  you.  Have  you  no  pride  of  blood  ? 
The  best  blood  of  the  South,  to  say  nothing  of " 

"I'm  tickled  to  death.  I  just  dote  on  being  a  Groome, 
plus  Ballinger,  plus.  And  I  'm  not  guying,  neither.  I  'd 
hate  like  the  mischief  to  be  second  rate,  no  matter  what 
I  won  later.  It  must  be  awful  to  have  to  try  to  get  to 
places  that  should  be  yours  by  divine  right,  as  it  were. 
But  all  that's  no  reason  for  being  a  moss-back,  a  back 
number,  for  not  having  any  fun — to  be  glued  to  the 
ancestral  rock  like  a  lot  of  old  limpets.  .  .  .  And  it 
should  preserve  us  from  being  snobs,"  she  added. 

"Snobs?" 

"The  'I  will  maintain'  sort,  as  Aileen  puts  it." 

"Don't  quote  that  dreadful  child  to  me.  I  haven't 
an  atom  of  snobbery  in  my  composition.  I  reserve  the 
right  to  know  whom  I  please,  and  to  exclude  from  my 
house  people  to  whom  I  cannot  accustom  myself.  Why 
I  know  quite  a  number  of  people  at  Burlingame.  I 
dined  there  informally  last  night." 

"Yes,  because  it  has  the  fascination  for  you  that  wine 
has  for  the  clergyman's  son."  Alexina  once  more  yi^ded 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  45 

to  temptation.  "But  the  only  people  you  really  know 
at  Burlingame  except  Mrs.  Hunter  are  those  of  the  old 
set,  what  you  would  call  the  pick  of  the  bunch,  if  you 
were  one  of  us.  They  went  there  to  live  because  they 
were  tired  of  being  moss-backs.  Why  don't  you  follow 
their  example  and  go  the  whole  hog?  They — and  their 
girls — have  a  ripping  time." 

"At  least  they  have  not  picked  up  your  vocabulary. 
I  seldom  see  the  young  people.  And  I  have  never  been 
to  the  Club.  I  am  told  the  women  drink  and  smoke 
quite  openly  on  the  verandah." 

"You  may  bet  your  sweet  life  they  do.  They  are 
honest,  and  quite  as  sure  of  their  position  as  you  are. 
But  tell  me  about  father.  How  did  mother  come  to 
marry  him?  If  he  was  such  a  naughty  person  I  should 
think  she  would  have  exercised  the  sound  Ballinger  in 
stincts  and  thrown  him  down." 

"Mother  met  him  in  Washington.  Grandfather  Bal 
linger  was  senator  at  the  time " 

"From  Virginia  or  California?" 

"It  is  shocking  that  you  do  not  know  more  of  the 
family  history.  From  California,  of  course.  He  had 
great  gifts  and  political  aspirations,  and  realized  that 
there  would  be  more  opportunity  in  the  new  state — 
particularly  in  such  a  famous  one — than  in  his  own 
where  all  the  men  in  public  life  seemed  to  have  taken 
root — I  remember  his  using  that  expression.  So,  he 
came  here  with  his  bride,  the  beauty  of  Richmond " 

"Oh,  Lord,  I  know  all  about  her.  Remember  the 
flavor  in  my  mother's  milk " 

"Well,  you'd  look  like  her  if  you  had  brown  eyes  and 
a  white  skin,  and  if  your  mouth  were  smaller.  And 
until  you  learn  to  stand  up  straight  you'll  never  have 
anything  like  her  elegance  of  carriage.  However.  .  .  . 
Of  course  they  had  plenty  of  money — for  those  days. 
They  had  come  to  Virginia  in  the  days  of  Queen  Eliza 
beth  and  received  a  large  grant  of  land " 

"Don't  fancy  I  haven't  heard  that!" 

"Grandfather  had  inherited  the  plantation " 

* '  Sold  his  slaves,  I  suppose,  to  come  to  California  and 
realize  his  ambitions.  Funny,  how  ideals  change ! ' ' 


46  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

''His  abilities  were  recognized  as  soon  as  he  arrived 
in  the  new  community,  and  our  wonderful  grandmother 
became  at  once  one  of  that  small  band  of  social  leaders 
that  founded  San  Francisco  society :  Mrs.  Hunt  McLane, 
the  Hathaways,  Mrs.  Don  Pedro  Earle,  the  Montgom- 
erys,  the  Gearys,  the  Talbots,  the  Belmonts,  Mrs.  Abbott, 
Tom's  grandmother " 

"Never  mind  about  them.  I  have  them  dished  up 
occasionally  by  mother,  although  she  prefers  to  descant 
upon  the  immortal  eighties,  when  she  was  a  leader  her 
self  and  'money  wasn't  everything.'  "We  never  had  so 
much  of  it  anyhow.  I  know  Grandfather  Ballinger  built 
this  ramshackle  old  house -" 

Mrs.  Abbott  sat  forward  and  drew  herself  up.  She  felt 
as  if  she  were  talking  to  a  stranger,  as,  indeed,  she  was. 

"This  house  and  its  traditions  are  sacred " 

"I  know  it.  You  were  telling  me  how  mother  came 
to  marry  a  bad  fast  man. ' ' 

' '  He  was  not  fast  when  she  met  him.  It  was  at  a  ball 
in  Washington.  He  was  a  young  congressman — he  was 
wounded  in  his  right  arm  during  the  first  year  of  the 
war  and  returned  at  once  to  California ;  of  course  he  had 
been  one  of  the  first  to  enlist.  He  was  of  a  fine  old 
family  and  by  no  means  poor.  Of  course  in  Washington 
he  was  asked  to  the  best  houses.  At  that  time  he  was 
very  ambitious  and  absorbed  in  politics  and  the  advance 
ment  of  California.  Afterward  he  renounced  Washing 
ton  for  reasons  I  never  clearly  understood ;  although  he 
told  me  once  that  California  was  the  only  place  for  a 
man  to  live;  and — well — I  am  afraid  he  could  do  more 
as  he  pleased  out  here  without  criticism — from  men,  at 
least.  The  standards — for  men — were  very  low  in  those 
days.  But  when  he  met  mother " 

' '  Was  mother  ever  very  pretty  ? ' ' 

' '  She  was  handsome, ' '  replied  Mrs.  Abbott  guardedly. 
"Of  course  she  had  the  freshness  and  roundness  of 
youth.  I  am  told  she  had  a  lovely  color  and  the  bright 
est  eyes.  And  she  had  a  beautiful  figure.  She  had 
several  proposals,  but  she  chose  father." 

"And  had  the  devil's  own  time  with  him.  She  let  out 
that  much  this  morning. ' ' 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  47 

' '  I  am  growing  accustomed  to  your  language. ' '  Once 
more  Mrs.  Abbott  was  determined  to  be  amiable  and 
tactful.  She  realized  that  the  child 's  brain  was  seething 
with  the  excitements  of  the  day,  but  was  aghast  at  the 
revelations  it  had  recklessly  tossed  out,  and  admitted 
that  the  problem  of  "handling  her"  could  no  longer  be 
disposed  of  with  home-made  generalities. 

"Yes,  mother  did  not  have  a  bed  of  roses.  Father 
was  mayor  at  one  time  and  held  various  other  public 
offices,  and  no  one,  at  least,  ever  accused  him  of  civic 
corruptness.  Quite  the  contrary.  The  city  owes  more 
than  one  reform  to  his  vdetermination  and  ability. 

"He  even  risked  his  life  fighting  the  bosses  and  their 
political  gangs,  for  he  was  shot  at  twice.  But  he  was 
very  popular  in  his  own  class;  what  men  call  a  good 
fellow,  and  at  that  time  there  was  quite  a  brilliant  group 
of  disreputable  women  here ;  one  could  not  help  hearing 
things,  for  the  married  women  here  have  always  been 
great  gossips.  Well — you  may  as  well  know  it — it  may 
have  the  same  effect  on  you  that  it  did  on  Ballinger  and 
Geary,  who  are  the  most  abstemious  of  men — he  drank 
and  gambled  and  had  too  much  to  do  with  those  unspeak 
able  women.  .  .  . 

"Nevertheless,  he  made  a  great  deal  of  money  for  a 
long  time,  and  if  he  hadn't  gambled  (not  only  in 
gambling  houses  and  in  private  but  in  stocks),  he  would 
have  left  a  large  fortune.  As  it  is,  poor  darling,  you 
will  only  have  this  house  and  about  six  thousand  a  year. 
Father  was  quite  well  off  when  Sally  and  I  married  and 
Ballinger  and  Geary  went  to  New  York  after  marrying 
the  Lyman  girls,  who  were  such  belles  out  here  when 
they  paid  us  a  visit  in  the  nineties.  They  had  money  of 
their  own  and  father  gave  the  boys  a  hundred  thousand 
each.  He  gave  the  same  to  Sally  and  me  when  we  mar 
ried.  But  when  you  came  along,  or  rather  when  you 
were  ten,  and  he  died — well,  he  had  run  through  nearly 
everything,  and  had  lost  his  grip.  Mother  got  her  share 
of  the  community  property,  and  of  course  she  had  this 
house  and  her  share  of  the  Ballinger  estate — not  very 
much." 


48  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

vn 

"Why  didn't  mother  keep  father  at  home  and  make 
him  hehave  himself?" 

"Mother  did  everything  a  good  woman  could  do." 

"Maybe  she  was  too  good." 

* '  You  abominable  child.    A  woman  can 't  be  too  good. ' ' 

"Perhaps  not.  But  I  fancy  she  can  make  a  man 
think  so.  When  he  has  different  tastes." 

' '  Women  are  as  they  are  born.  My  mother  would  not 
have  condescended  to  lower  herself  to  the  level  of  those 
creatures  who  fascinated  my  father." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't,  neither.  I'd  just  light  out  and 
leave  him.  Why  didn't  mother  get  a  divorce?" 

"A  divorce?  Why,  she  has  never  received  any  one 
in  her  house  who  has  been  divorced.  Neither  have  I 
except  in  one  or  two  cases  where  very  dear  friends  had 
been  forced  by  circumstances  into  the  divorce  court. 
I  didn't  approve  even  then.  People  should  wash  their 
dirty  linen  at  home. ' ' 

"Time  moves,  as  I  remarked,  just  now.  Nothing 
would  stop  me;  if,  for  instance,  I  had  been  persuaded 
into  marrying  a  member  of  the  A.  A.  and  he  was  in  the 
way  of  ruining  my  young  life.  You  should  be  thankful 
if  I  did  decide  to  marry  Mr.  D wight — mind,  I  don 't  say 
I  care  the  tip  of  my  little  finger  for  him.  I  barely  know 
him.  But  if  I  did  you  would  have  to  admit  that  I  was 
following  the  best  Ballinger  instincts,  for  he  doesn't 
drink,  or  dissipate  in  any  way;  and  everybody  says  he 
works  hard  and  is  as  steady  as — I  was  going  to  say  as  a 
judge,  but  I've  been  told  that  all  judges,  in  this  town 
at  least,  are  not  as  steady  as  you  think.  Anyhow,  he  is. 
His  family  is  as  old  as  ours,  even  if  it  did  have  reverses 
or  something.  And  you  can't  deny  that  he  is  a  gentle 
man,  every  inch  of  him." 

"I  do  not  deny  that  he  has  a  very  good  appearance 
indeed.  But — well,  he  was  brought  up  in  San  Francisco 
and  no  one  ever  heard  of  his  parents.  He  admitted  to 
me  at  the  table  that  his  father  was  only  a  clerk  in  a 
broker's  office.  He  is  not  one  of  us  and  that  is  the  end 
of  it." 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  49 

"Why  not  make  him  one?  Quite  easy.  And  you 
ought  to  rejoice  in  what  power  you  have  left." 

She  rose  and  stretched  and  yawned  in  a  most  unlady 
like  fashion. 

"I'm  going  to  make  a  cup  of  coffee  for  our  sentinel, 
and  have  a  little  chat  with  him,  chaperoned  by  the  great 
bonfire.  Don't  think  you  can  stop  me,  for  you  can't. 
Heavens,  what  a  noise  that  dynamite  does  make!  We 
shall  have  to  shout.  It  will  be  more  than  proper.  Good 
night,  darling." 


CHAPTER  VII 


D  WIGHT  with  a  quick  turn  of  a  strong  and 
supple  wrist  flung  a  folding  chair  up  through  the 
trap  door  of  the  roof.  She  followed  with  a  pitcher  of 
water,  opened  the  chair,  and  sat  down. 

It  was  the  second  day  of  the  fire,  which  was  now 
raging  in  the  valleys  north  of  Market  Street  and  up  the 
hills.  It  was  still  some  distance  from  all  but  the  lower 
end  of  Van  Ness  Avenue,  the  wide  street  that  divides 
the  eastern  and  western  sections  of  the  city,  as  Market 
Street  divides  the  northern  and  southern,  and  her  own 
home  on  Geary  Street  was  beyond  Franklin  and  safe  for 
the  present.  It  was  expected  that  the  fire  would  be 
halted  by  dynamiting  the  blocks  east  of  the  avenue,  but 
as  it  had  already  leapt  across  not  far  from  Market  Street 
and  was  running  out  toward  the  Mission,  Gora  pinned 
her  faith  in  nothing  less  than  a  change  of  wind. 

Life  has  many  disparate  schools.  The  one  attended 
by  Miss  Gora  Dwight  had  taught  her  to  hope  for  the 
best,  prepare  for  the  worst,  and  be  thankful  if  she 
escaped  (to  use  the  homely  phrase;  one  rarely  found 
leisure  for  originality  in  this  particular  school)  by  the 
skin  of  her  teeth. 

Gora  fully  expected  to  lose  the  house  she  sat  on,  and 
had  packed  what  few  valuables  she  possessed  in  two 


50  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

large  bags:  the  fine  underclothes  she  had  made  at  odd 
moments,  and  a  handsome  set  of  toilet  articles  her 
brother  had  given  her  on  the  Christmas  before  last.  He 
had  had  a  raise  of  salary  and  her  experiment  with 
lodgers  had  proved  even  more  successful  than  she  had 
dared  to  hope1  On  the  following  Christmas  he  had  given 
her  a  large  book  with  a  fancy  binding  (which  she  had 
exchanged  for  something  she  could  read).  After  satis 
fying  the  requirements  of  a  wardrobe  suitable  for  the 
world  of  fashion,  supplemented  by  the  usual  toll  of 
flowers  and  bon-bons,  he  had  little  surplus  for  domestic 
presents. 

Gora's  craving  for  drama  was  far  deeper  and  more 
significant  than  young  Alexina  Groome's,  and  she  deter 
mined  to  watch  until  the  last  moment  the  terrific  spec 
tacle  of  the  burning  city.  The  wind  had  carried  the 
smoke  upward  for  a  mile  or  more  and  pillars  of  fire  sup 
ported  it  at  such  irregular  intervals  that  it  looked  like 
a  vast  infernal  temple  in  which  demons  were  waging 
war,  and  undermining  the  roof  in  their  senseless  fury. 

In  some  places  whole  blocks  of  houses  were  blazing; 
here  and  there  high  buildings  burned  in  solitary 
grandeur,  the  flames  leaping  from  every  window  or  boil 
ing  from  the  roof.  Sometimes  one  of  these  buildings 
would  disappear  in  a  shower  of  sparks  and  an  awful 
roar,  or  a  row  of  humbler  houses  was  lifted  bodily  from 
the  ground  to  burst  into  a  thousand  particles  of  flying 
wood,  and  disappear. 

The  heat  was  overpowering  (she  bathed  her  face  con 
stantly  from  the  pitcher)  and  the  roar  of  the  flames,  the 
constant  explosions  of  dynamite,  the  loud  vicious 
crackling  of  wood,  the  rending  and  splitting  of  masonry, 
the  hoarse  impact  of  walls  as  they  met  the  earth,  was  the 
scene's  wild  orchestral  accompaniment  and,  despite  un 
derlying  apprehension  and  horror,  gave  Gora  one  of 
the  few  pleasurable  sensations  of  her  life. 

But  she  moved  her  chair  after  a  moment  and  fixed  her 
gaze,  no  longer  rapt  but  ironic,  on  the  flaming  hillcrests, 
the  long  line  of  California  Street,  nucleus  of  the  wealth 
and  fashion  of  San  Francisco.  The  Western  Addition 
was  fashionable  and  growing  more  so,  but  it  had  been 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  51 

too  far  away  for  the  pioneers  of  the  fifties  and  sixties, 
the  bonanza  kings  of  the  seventies,  the  railroad  magnates 
of  the  eighties,  and  they  had  built  their  huge  and  hideous 
mansions  upon  the  hill  that  rose  almost  perpendicularly 
above  the  section  where  they  made  and  lost  their  millions. 
Some  wag  or  toady  had  named  it  Nob  Hill  and  the  in 
habitants  had  complacently  accepted  the  title,  although 
they  refrained  from  putting  it  on  their  cards. 
And  now  it  was  in  flames. 


n 

Gora  recalled  the  day  when  she  had  walked  slowly 
past  those  mansions,  staring  at  each  in  turn  as  she  assimi 
lated  the  disheartening  and  infuriating  fact  that  she  and 
the  children  that  inhabited  them  belonged  to  different 
worlds. 

Her  family  at  that  time  lived  in  a  cottage  at  the 
wrong  end  of  Taylor  Street  Hill,  and,  Mrs.  Dwight  hav 
ing  received  a  small  legacy  from  a  sister  recently  de 
ceased  which  had  convinced  her,  if  not  her  less  mer 
curial  husband,  that  their  luck  had  finally  turned,  had 
sent  Gora,  then  a  rangy  girl  of  thirteen,  fond  of  books 
and  study,  to  a  large  private  school  in  the  fashionable 
district. 

Gora,  after  all  these  years,  ground  her  teeth  as  she 
had  a  sudden  blighting  vision  of  the  day  a  week  later, 
when,  puzzled  and  resentful,  she  had  walked  up  the 
steep  hill  with  several  of  the  girls  whose  homes  were  on 
California  and  Taylor  Streets,  and  two  of  whom,  like 
herself,  were  munching  an  apple. 

They  had  hardly  noticed  her  sufficiently  to  ignore  her, 
either  then  or  during  the  previous  week,  so  absorbed 
were  they  in  their  own  close  common  interests.  She 
listened  to  allusions  which  she  barely  could  comprehend, 
but  it  was  evident  that  one  was  to  give  a  party 
on  Friday  night  and  the  others  were  expected  as  a 
matter  of  course.  Gora  assumed  that  Jim  and  Sam  and 
Rex  and  Bob  were  brothers  or  beaux.  Last  names  ap 
peared  to  be  no  more  necessary  than  labels  to  inform  the 
outsider  of  the  social  status  of  these  favored  maidens, 


52  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

too  happy  and  contented  to  be  snobs  but  quite  callous  to 
the  feelings  of  strange  little  girls. 

They  drifted  one  by  one  into  their  opulent  homes, 
bidding  one  another  a  careless  or  a  sentimental  good-by, 
and  Gora,  throwing  her  head  as  far  back  on  her  shoul 
ders  as  it  would  go  without  dislocation,  stalked  down  to 
the  unfashionable  end  of  Taylor  Street  and  up  to  the 
solitude  of  her  bedroom  under  the  eaves  of  the  cottage. 

On  the  following  day  she  had  lingered  in  the  school 
yard  until  the  other  girls  were  out  of  sight,  then  climb 
ing  the  almost  perpendicular  hill  so  rapidly  that  she 
arrived  on  the  crest  with  little  breath  and  a  pain  in  her 
side,  she  had  sauntered  deliberately  up  and  down  before 
the  imposing  homes  of  her  schoolmates,  staring  at  them 
with  angry  and  puzzled  eyes,  her  young  soul  in  tumult. 
It  was  the  old  inarticulate  cry  of  class,  of  the  unchosen 
who  seeks  the  reason  and  can  find  none. 


m 

As  she  had  a  tendency  not  only  to  brood  but  to  work 
out  her  own  problems  it  was  several  days  before  she 
demanded  an  explanation  of  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Dwight,  a  prematurely  gray  and  wrinkled  woman, 
who  had  once  been  handsome  with  good  features  and 
bright  coloring,  and  who  wore  a  deliberately  cheerful 
expression  that  Gora  often  wanted  to  wipe  off,  was  sit 
ting  in  the  dining-room  making  a  skirt  for  her  daughter  ; 
which,  Gora  reflected  bitterly,  was  sure  to  be  too  long  on 
one  side  if  not  in  front. 

Mrs.  Dwight 's  smile  faded  as  she  looked  at  the  somber 
face  and  huddled  figure  in  the  worn  leather  arm-chair 
in  which  Mr.  Dwight  spent  his  silent  evenings. 

"  Why,  my  dear,  you  surely  knew  long  before  this  that 
some  people  are  rich  and  others  poor — to  say  nothing  of 
the  betwixts  and  betweens."  She  was  an  exact  woman 
in  small  matters.  "That's  all  there  is  to  it.  I  thought 
it  a  good  idea  to  send  you  to  a  private  school  where  you 
might  make  friends  among  girls  of  your  own  class. ' ' 

' '  Own  class  ?  They  treat  me  like  dirt.  How  am  I  of 
their  class  when  they  live  in  palaces  and  I  in  a  hovel  ? ' ' 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  53 

"I  have  reproved  you  many  times  for  exaggerated 
speech.  What  I  meant  was  that  you  are  as  well-born  as 
any  of  them  (better  than  many)  only  we  have  been 
unfortunate.  Your  father  tried  hard  enough,  but  he 
just  doesn't  seem  to  have  the  money-making  faculty  like 
so  many  men.  Now,  we've  had  a  little  luck  I'm  really 
hopeful.  I've  just  had  a  nice  letter  from  your  Aunt 
Eliza  Goring — I  named  you  for  her,  but  I  couldn't  in 
flict  you  with  Eliza.  You  know  she  is  many  years  older 
than  I  am  and  has  no  children.  She  was  out  here  once 
just  before  you  were  born.  We — we  were  very  hard  up 
indeed.  It  was  she  who  furnished  this  cottage  for  us 
and  paid  a  year's  rent.  Soon  after,  your  father  got  his 
present  position  and  we  have  managed  to  get  along. 
She  always  sends  me  a  little  cheque  at  Christmas  and 
I  am  sure — well,  there  are  some  things  we  don't  say. 
.  .  .  But  this  legacy  from  your  Aunt  Jane  is  the  only 
real  stroke  of  luck  we  ever  had,  and  I  can't  help  feeling 
hopeful.  I  do  believe  better  times  are  coming.  ...  It 
used  to  seem  terribly  hard  and  unjust  that  so  many 
people  all  about  us  had  so  much  and  we  nothing,  and 
that  in  this  comparatively  small  city  we  knew  practically 
no  one.  But  I  have  got  over  being  bitter  and  envious. 
You  do  when  you  are  busy  every  minute.  And  then  we 
have  the  blessing  of  health,  and  Mortimer  is  the  best 
boy  in  the  world,  and  you  are  a  very  good  child  when 
you  are  not  in  a  bad  temper.  I  think  you  will  be  hand 
some,  too,  although  you  are  pretty  hopeless  at  present; 
but  of  course  you  will  never  have  anything  like  Morti 
mer's  looks.  He  is  the  living  image  of  the  painting  of 
your  Great-great-great-grandfather  Dwight  that  used  to 
hang  in  the  dining-room  in  Utica,  and  who  was  in  the 
first  Congress.  Now,  do  try  and  make  friends  with  the 
nicer  of  the  children." 

But  Gora's  was  not  a  conciliating  nor  a  compromising 
nature.  Her  idea  of  " squaring  things"  was  to  become 
the  best  scholar  in  her  classes  and  humiliate  several 
young  ladies  of  her  own  age  who  had  held  the  first  posi 
tion  with  an  ease  that  had  bred  laxity.  Greatly  to  the 
satisfaction  of  the  teachers  an  angry  emulation  ensued 
with  the  gratifying  result  that  although  the  girls  could 


54  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

not  pass  Gora,  their  weekly  marks  were  higher,  and  for 
the  rest  of  the  term  they  did  less  giggling  even  after 
school  hours,  and  more  studying. 

But  Gora  would  not  return  for  a  second  term.  She 
had  made  no  friends  among  the  girls,  although,  no 
doubt,  having  won  their  respect,  they  would,  with  the 
democracy  of  childhood,  have  admitted  her  to  intimacy 
by  degrees,  particularly  if  she  had  proved  to  be  socially 
malleable. 

But  for  some  obscure  reason  it  made  Gora  happier  to 
hate  them  all,  and  when  she  had  passed  her  examina 
tions  victoriously,  and  taken  every  prize,  except  for  tidi 
ness  and  deportment,  she  said  good-by  with  some  regret 
to  the  teachers,  who  had  admired  and  encouraged  her 
but  did  not  pretend  to  love  her,  and  announced  as  soon 
as  she  arrived  at  home  that  she  should  enter  the  High 
School  at  the  beginning  of  the  following  term. 


IV 

Her  parents  were  secretly  relieved.  Even  Mrs. 
Dwight's  vision  of  future  prosperity  had  faded.  She 
had  been  justified  in  believing  that  her  sister  Eliza  would 
make  a  will  in  favor  of  her  family,  but  unfortunately 
Mrs.  Goring  had  amused  herself  with  speculation  in  her 
old  age,  and  had  left  barely  enough  to  pay  her  funeral 
expenses. 

Mrs.  Dwight  broached  the  subject  of  their  immediate 
future  to  her  husband  that  evening.  She  had  some  time 
since  made  up  her  mind,  in  case  the  school  experiment 
was  not  a  success,  to  furnish  a  larger  house  with  what 
remained  of  the  legacy,  and  take  boarders. 

"I  wouldn't  do  it  if  Gora  had  made  the  friends  I 
hoped  for  her, ' '  she  said,  turning  the  heel  of  the  first  of 
her  son's  winter  socks,  ''and  there's  no  such  thing  as  a 
social  come-down  for  us;  for  that  matter,  there  is  more 
than  one  lady,  once  wealthy,  who  is  keeping  a  boarding- 
house  in  this  town.  Gora  will  have  to  work  anyhow,  and 

as  for  Mortimer "  she  glanced  fondly  at  her  manly 

young  son,  who  was  amiably  playing  checkers  in  the 
parlor  with  his  sister,  * '  he  is  sure  to  make  his  fortune. ' ' 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  55 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  D wight  heavily.  "I  don't 
know. ' ' 

"Why,  what  do  you  mean?"  asked  his  wife  sharply. 

Mrs.  Dwight  belonged  to  that  type  of  American  women 
whose  passions  in  youth  are  weak  and  anaemic,  not  to 
say  exceedingly  shame-faced,  but  which  in  mature  years 
become  strong  and  selfish  and  jealous,  either  for  a  lover 
or  a  son.  Mrs.  Dwight,  being  a  perfectly  respectable 
woman,  had  centered  all  the  accumulated  forces  of  her 
being  on  the  son  whom  she  idealized  after  the  fashion 
of  her  type ;  and  as  she  had  corrected  his  obvious  faults 
when  he  was  a  boy,  it  was  quite  true  that  he  was  kind, 
amiable,  honest,  honorable,  patriotic,  industrious,  clean, 
polite,  and  moral;  if  hardly  as  handsome  as  Apollo  or 
as  brilliant  and  gifted  as  she  permitted  herself  to  believe. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  repeated,  although  she 
lowered  her  voice.  It  was  rarely  that  it  assumed  an 
edge  when  addressing  her  husband.  She  had  never  re 
proached  him  for  being  a  failure,  for  she  had  recog 
nized  his  limitations  early  and  accepted  her  lot.  But 
something  in  his  tone  shook  her  maternal  complacence 
and  roused  her  to  instant  defense. 

Mr.  Dwight  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth  and  also 
cast  a  glance  toward  the  parlor,  but  the  absorbed  players 
were  beyond  the  range  of  his  rather  weak  voice. 

"I  mean  this,"  he  said  with  nothing  of  his  usual 
vague  hesitancy  of  speech.  ' '  I  'm  not  so  sure  that  Morty 
is  beyond  clerk  size." 

"You — you — John  Dwight — your  son "  The 

thin  layer  of  pale  flesh  on  Mrs.  Dwight 's  face  seemed  to 
collapse  upon  its  harsh  framework  with  the  terrified 
wrath  that  shook  her.  Her  mouth  fell  apart,  and  hot 
smarting  tears  welled  slowly  to  her  eyes,  faded  with  long 
years  of  stitching;  not  only  for  her  own  family  but  for 
many  others  when  money  had  been  more  than  commonly 
scarce.  ' '  Mortimer  can  do  anything.  Anything. ' ' 

' '  Can  he  ?  Why  doesn  't  he  show  it  then  ?  He  went  to 
work  at  sixteen  and  is  now  twenty-two.  He  is  drawing 
just  fifty  dollars  a  month.  He's  well  liked  in  the  firm, 
too." 

; '  Why  don 't  they  raise  his  salary  ? ' ' 


56  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

"Because  that's  all  he's  worth  to  them.  He's  a  good 
steady  honest  clerk,  nothing  more." 

"He's  very  young " 

"  If  a  man  has  initiative,  ability,  any  sort  of  construc 
tive  power  in  his  brain  he  shows  it  by  the  time  he  is 
twenty-two — if  he  has  been  in  that  forcing  house  for 
four  or  five  years.  That  is  the  whole  history  of  this 
country.  And  employers  are  always  on  the  look-out  for 
those  qualities  and  only  too  anxious  to  find  them  and 
push  a  young  man  on  and  up.  Many  a  president  of  a 
great  business  started  life  as  a  clerk,  or  even  office 
boy " 

*  *  That  is  what  I  have  always  known  would  happen  to 
Morty.  I  am  sure,  sure,  that  you  are  doing  him  a  cruel 
injustice. ' ' 

' 1 1  hope  I  am.  But  I  am  a  failure  myself  and  I  know 
what  a  man  needs  in  the  way  of  natural  equipment  to 
make  a  success  of  his  life." 

* '  But  he  is  so  energetic  and  industrious  and  honorable 
and  likable  and " 

"I  was  all  that." 

"Then "  Mrs.  D wight's  voice  trailed  off;  it 

sounded  flat  and  old.  "What  do  you  both  lack?" 

"Brains." 


Mrs.  Dwight  had  repeated  this  conversation  to  Gora 
shortly  before  her  death,  and  the  girl  in  her  reminiscent 
mood  recalled  it  as  she  stared  with  somber  eyes  and 
ironic  lips  at  the  havoc  the  fire  was  playing  with  those 
lofty  mansions  which  had  stood  to  her  all  these  inter 
vening  years  as  symbols  of  the  unpardonable  injustice 
of  class. 

She  recalled  another  of  the  few  occasions  when  Mrs. 
Dwight,  who  believed  in  acceptance  and  contentment, 
had  been  persuaded  to  discuss  the  idiosyncrasies  of  her 
adopted  city. 

"It  isn't  that  money  is  the  standard  here  as  it  is  in 
New  York.  Of  course  there  is  a  very  wealthy  set  these 
late  years  and  they  set  a  pace  that  makes  it  difficult  for 
the  older  families,  like  the  Groomes  for  instance — I  met 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  57 

Mrs.  Groome  once  at  a  summer  resort  where  I  was 
housekeeper  that  year,  and  I  thought  her  very  typical 
and  interesting.  She  was  so  kind  to  me  without  seeing 
me  at  all.  .  .  .  But  those  fine  old  families,  who  are  all 
of  good  old  Eastern  or  Southern  stock — if  they  manage 
to  keep  in  society  are  still  the  most  influential  element 
in  it.  ...  Family.  .  .  .  Having  lived  in  California  long 
enough  to  be  one  of  that  old  set.  ...  To  be,  without 
question,  one  of  them.  That  is  all  that  matters.  I've 
come  in  contact  with  a  good  many  of  them  first  and  last 
in  my  poor  efforts  to  help  your  father,  and  I  believe  the 
San  Franciscans  to  be  the  most  loyal  and  disinterested 
people  in  the  world — to  one  another. 

'  *  But  if  you  come  in  from  the  outside  you  must  bring 
money,  or  tremendous  family  prestige,  or  the  right  kind 
of  social  personality  with  the  best  kind  of  letters.  We 
just  crept  in  and  were  glad  to  be  permitted  to  make  a 
living.  Why  should  they  have  taken  any  notice  of  us? 
They  don't  go  hunting  about  for  obscure  people  of  possi 
bly  gentle  blood.  That  doesn't  happen  anywhere  in  the 
world.  You  must  be  reasonable,  my  dear  child.  That 
is  life/  The  World.'3 

But  Gora  was  not  gifted  with  that  form  of  reasonable 
ness.  She  had  wished  in  her  darker  moments  that  she 
had  been  born  outright  in  the  working-class;  then,  no 
doubt,  she  would  have  trudged  contentedly  every  morn 
ing  (except  when  on  strike)  to  the  factory  or  shop,  or 
been  some  one's  cook.  She  was  an  excellent  cook.  What 
galled  her  was  the  fact  of  virtually  belonging  to  the 
same  class  as  these  people  who  were  still  unaware  of  the 
existence  of  her  family,  although  it  had  lived  for  over 
thirty  years  in  a  city  numbering  to-day  only  half  a 
million  inhabitants. 

She  was  almost  fanatically  democratic  and  could  see 
no  reason  for  differences  of  degree  in  the  aspiring 
classes.  To  her  mind  the  only  line  of  cleavage  between 
the  classes  was  that  which  divided  people  of  education, 
refinement  of  mind  manners  and  habits,  certain  in 
herited  traditions,  and  the  mental  effort  no  matter  how 
small  to  win  a  place  in  this  difficult  world,  from  com 
monness,  ignorance,  indifference  to  dirt,  coarse  pleasures 


58  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

and  habits,  and  manual  labor.  She  respected  Labor  as 
the  solid  foundation  stones  upon  which  civilization  up 
held  itself,  and  believed  it  to  have  been  biologically 
chosen ;  if  she  had  been  born  in  its  class  she  would  have 
had  the  ambition  to  work  her  way  out  of  it,  but  without 
resentment. 

There  her  recognition  of  class  stopped.  That  wealth 
or  family  prominence  even  in  a  great  city  or  an  old 
community  should  create  an  exclusive  and  favored 
society  seemed  to  her  illogical  and  outrageous.  A  woman 
was  a  lady  or  she  wasn't.  A  man  was  a  gentleman  or 
he  wasn't.  That  should  be  the  beginning  and  the  end 
of  the  social  code.  .  .  .  When  she  had  been  younger 
she  had  lamented  her  mean  position  because  it  excluded 
her  from  the  light-hearted  and  brilliant  pleasures  of 
youth;  but  as  she  grew  older  this  natural  craving  had 
given  place  to  a  far  deeper  and  more  corrosive  resent 
ment. 

She  had  no  patience  with  her  brother's  ingenuous 
snobbery.  A  good-natured  friend  had  introduced  him 
to  one  or  two  houses  where  there  were  young  people  and 
much  dancing  and  he  had  been  " taken  up."  Nothing 
would  have  filled  Gora  with  such  murderous  rage  as  to 
be  taken  up.  She  wanted  her  position  conceded  as  a 
natural  right. 

Had  it  been  in  her  power  she  would  have  forced  her 
conception  of  democracy  upon  the  entire  United  States. 
But  as  this  was  quite  impossible  she  longed  passionately 
for  some  power,  personal  and  irresistible,  that  would 
compel  the  attention  of  the  elect  in  the  city  of  her  birth 
and  ultimately  bring  them  to  her  feet.  And  here  she 
had  a  ray  of  hope. 

VI 

Meanwhile  it  was  some  satisfaction  to  watch  them 
being  burned  out  of  house  and  home. 

Then  she  gave  a  short  impatient  sigh  that  was  almost 
a  groan,  as  she  wondered  if  her  own  home  would  go. 
The  family  had  moved  into  it  eight  years  ago ;  and  after 
Mr.  Dwight's  death  his  widow  had  barely  made  a  living 
for  herself  and  her  daughter  out  of  the  uncertain 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  59 

boarders.  Mortimer  had  paid  his  share,  but  she  had 
encouraged  him  to  dress  well  and  no  one  knew  the  value 
of  " front"  better  than  he.  After  her  death,  three  years 
ago,  Gora  had  turned  out  the  boarders  and  the  last  slat 
ternly  wasteful  cook  and  let  her  rooms  to  business  women 
who  made  their  morning  coffee  over  the  gas  jet.  The 
new  arrangement  paid  very  well  and  left  her  time  for 
lectures  at  the  University  of  California,  and  for  other 
studies.  A  Jap  came  in  daily  to  put  the  rooms  in  order 
and  she  cooked  for  herself  and  her  brother.  So  un 
known  was  she  that  even  Aileen  Lawton  was  unaware 
that  the  "boarding-house  down  on  Geary  Street"  was  a 
lodging  house  kept  by  Mortimer  Dwight  's  sister.  Fortu 
nately  Gora  was  spared  one  more  quivering  arrow  in 
her  pride. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


TpHERE  was  a  tremendous  burst  of  dynamite  that 
*•  rocked  the  house.  Then  she  heard  her  brother's 
voice : 

' '  Gora !  Gora !    Where  are  y ou  f ' ' 

She  let  herself  through  the  trap  door  and  ran  down 
to  the  first  floor. 

Her  brother  was  standing  in  the  lower  hall  surrounded 
by  several  of  their  lodgers,  competent-looking  women, 
quite  calm  and  business  like,  but  dressed  as  for  a  jour 
ney  and  carrying  suitcases  and  bags. 

' '  You  are  all  ordered  out, ' '  he  was  saying.  ' '  A  change 
of  the  wind  to  the  south  would  sweep  the  fire  right  up 
this  hill,  and  it  may  cross  Van  Ness  Avenue  again  at  any 
time.  So  everybody  is  ordered  out  to  the  western  hills, 
or  the  Presidio,  or  across  the  Bay,  if  they  can  make  it. ' ' 

He  had  no  private  manners  and  greeted  his  sister  with 
the  same  gallant  smile  and  little  air  of  deference  which 
always  carried  him  a  certain  distance  in  public.  "You 
had  better  take  out  a  mattress  and  blanket,"  he  said. 
* '  I  wish  I  could  do  it  for  you — for  all  of  you — but  I  am 


60  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

under  orders  and  must  patrol  where  I  am  sent.  When 
I  finish  giving  the  orders  down  here  I  must  go  back  to 
the  Western  Addition. ' ' 

" Don't  worry  about  us/'  said  Gora  drily.  "We  are 
all  quite  as  capable  as  men  when  it  comes  to  looking  out 
for  ourselves  in  a  catastrophe.  I  hear  that  several  wives 
led  their  weeping  stricken  husbands  out  of  town  yester 
day  morning.  Are  you  sure  the  fire  will  cross  Van  Ness 
Avenue  to-night  ? ' ' 

* '  It  may  be  held  back  by  the  dynamiting,  but  one  can 
be  sure  of  nothing.  Of  course  the  wind  may  shift  to  the 
west  any  minute.  That  would  save  this  part  of  the 
city." 

"Well,  don't  let  us  keep  you  from  your  civic  duties. 
You  look  very  well  in  those  hunting  boots.  Lucky  you 
went  on  that  expedition  last  summer  with  Mr.  Cheever. ' ' 

Mortimer  frowned  slightly  and  turned  to  the  door. 
The  brother  and  sister  rarely  talked  on  any  but  the 
most  impersonal  subjects,  but  more  than  once  he  had  had 
an  uneasy  sense  that  she  knew  him  better  than  he  knew 
himself.  His  consciousness  had  never  faced  anything  so 
absurd,  but  there  were  times  when  he  felt  an  abrupt 
desire  to  escape  her  enigmatic  presence  and  this  was  one 
of  them. 


The  lodgers  were  permitted  by  the  patrol  to  cook  their 
luncheon  on  the  stove  that  had  been  set  up  in  the  street, 
the  orders  being  that  they  should  leave  within  an  hour. 
After  their  smoky  meal  they  departed,  carrying  mat 
tresses  and  blankets. 

Gora  had  no  intention  of  following  them  unless  the 
flames  were  actually  roaring  up  the  block  between  Van 
Ness  Avenue  and  Franklin  Street.  She  felt  quite  posi 
tive  that  she  could  outrun  any  fire. 

The  last  of  the  lodgers,  at  her  request,  shut  the  front 
door  and  made  a  feint  of  locking  it,  an  unnecessary 
precaution  in  any  case  as  all  the  windows  were  open; 
and  as  the  sentries  had  been  ordered  to  ''shoot  to  kill," 
and  had  obeyed  orders,  looting  had  ceased. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  61 


CHAPTER  IX 


went  up  to  the  large  attic  which,  soon  after 
her  mother's  death,  she  had  furnished  for  her  per 
sonal  use.  The  walls  were  hung  with  a  thin  bluish  green 
material  and  there  were  several  pieces  of  good  furniture 
that  she  had  picked  up  at  auctions.  One  side  of  the 
room  was  covered  with  book  shelves  which  Mortimer  had 
made  for  her  on  rainy  winter  nights  and  they  were  filled 
with  the  books  she  had  found  in  second-hand  shops. 
A  number  of  them  bore  the  autographs  of  men  once 
prosilient  in  the  city's  history  but  long  since  gone  down 
to  disaster.  There  were  a  few  prints  that  she  had  found 
in  the  same  way,  but  no  oils  or  water  colors  or  orna 
ments.  She  despised  the  second-rate,  and  the  best  of 
these  was  rarely  to  be  bought  for  a  song  even  at  auction. 

She  sighed,  as  she  reflected  that  if  obliged  to  flee  to 
the  hills  there  was  practically  nothing  she  could  save 
beyond  the  contents  of  her  bags ;  but  at  least  she  could 
remain  with  her  treasures  until  the  last  minute,  and  she 
pinned  the  curtains  across  the  small  windows  and  lit 
several  candles. 

Between  the  blasts  of  dynamite  the  street  was  very 
quiet.  She  could  hear  the  measured  tread  of  the  sentry 
as  he  passed,  a  member  of  the  Citizens'  Patrol,  like  her 
brother.  Suddenly  she  heard  a  shot,  and  extinguishing 
the  candles  hastily  she  peered  out  of  a  window  from 
behind  the  curtains.  The  sentry  was  pounding  on  a 
door  opposite  with  the  butt  of  his  rifle.  It  was  the  home 
of  an  eccentric  old  bachelor  who  possessed  a  fine  collec 
tion  of  ceramics  and  a  cellar  of  vintage  wine. 

The  door  opened  with  obvious  reluctance  and  the  head 
of  Mr.  Andrew  Bennett  appeared. 

"What  you  doin'  here?"  shouted  the  sentry. 
"Haven't  all  youse  been  told  three  hours  ago  to  light 
out  for  the  hills?  Git  out " 


62          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

"But  the  fire  hasn't  crossed  Van  Ness  Avenue.  I 
prefer " 

'  *  Your  opinion  ain  't  asked.    Git  out. ' ' 

"I  call  that  abominable  tyranny." 

"Git  out  or  I'll  shoot.  We  ain't  standin'  no  non 
sense." 

Gora  recognized  the  voice  as  that  of  a  young  man, 
clerk  in  a  butcher  shop  in  Polk  Street,  and  appreciated 
the  intense  satisfaction  he  took  in  his  brief  period  of 
authority. 

Mr.  Bennett  emerged  in  a  moment  with  two  large 
bags  and  walked  haughtily  up  the  street  at  the  point  of 
the  bayonet.  Gora  stood  expectantly  behind  her  curtain, 
and  some  ten  minutes  later  saw  him  sneak  round  the 
eastern  end  of  his  block,  dart  back  as  the  sentry  turned 
suddenly,  and  when  the  footsteps  once  more  receded  run 
up  the  street  and  into  his  house.  She  laughed  sym 
pathetically  and  hoped  he  would  not  be  caught  a  second 
time. 


Suddenly  another  man,  carrying  a  woman  in  his  arms, 
turned  the  same  corner.  He  was  staggering  as  if  he  had 
borne  a  heavy  burden  a  long  distance. 

Gora  ran  down  to  the  first  floor  and  glanced  out  of 
the  window  of  the  front  room.  The  sentry  had  crossed 
the  far  end  of  the  street  and  was  holding  converse  with 
another  member  of  the  patrol.  As  the  refugee  staggered 
past  the  house  she  opened  the  front  door  and  called 
softly. 

"Come  up  quickly.    Don't  let  them  see  you." 

The  man  stumbled  up  the  steps  and  into  the  house. 

"You  can  put  her  on  the  sofa  in  this  room."  Gora 
led  the  way  into  what  had  once  been  the  front  parlor 
and  was  now  the  chamber  of  her  star  lodger.  "Is  she 
hurt?" 

The  man  did  not  answer.  He  followed  her  and  laid 
down  his  burden.  Gora  flashed  her  electric  torch  on  the 
face  of  the  girl  and  drew  back  in  horror. 

"Dead?" 

"Yes,  she  is  dead."    The  young  man,  who  looked  a 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  63 

mere  boy  in  spite  of  his  unshaven  chin  and  haggard 
eyes,  threw  himself  into  a  chair  and  dropping  his  face 
on  his  arms  burst  into  heavy  sobs. 

Gora  stared,  fascinated,  at  the  sharp  white  face  of  the 
girl,  the  rope  of  fair  hair  wound  round  her  neck  like 
something  malign  and  muscular  that  had  strangled  her, 
the  half-open  eyes,  whose  white  maleficent  gleam  de 
prived  the  poor  corpse  of  its  last  right,  the  aloofness  and 
the  majesty  of  death.  She  may  have  been  an  innocent 
and  lovely  young  creature  when  alive,  but  dead,  and 
lacking  the  usual  amiable  beneficencies  of  the  under 
taker,  she  looked  like  a  macabre  wax  work  of  corrupt 
and  evil  youth. 

And  she  was  horribly  stiff. 


in 

Gora  went  into  the  kitchen  and  made  him  a  cup  of 
coffee  over  a  spirit  lamp.  He  drank  it  gratefully,  then 
followed  her  up  to  the  attic  as  she  feared  their  voices 
might  be  overheard  from  the  lower  room.  There  he  took 
the  easy  chair  and  the  cigarette  she  offered  him  and  told 
his  story. 

The  young  girl  was  his  sister  and  they  were  English. 
She  had  been  visiting  a  relative  in  Santa  Barbara  when 
a  sudden  illness  revealed  the  fact  that  she  had  a  serious 
heart  affection.  He  had  come  out  to  take  her  home  and 
they  had  been  staying  at  the  Palace  Hotel  waiting  for 
suitable  accommodations  before  crossing  the  continent. 

His  sister — Marian — had  been  terrified  into  uncon 
sciousness  by  the  earthquake  and  he  had  carried  her 
down  the  stairs  and  out  into  Market  Street,  where  she 
had  revived.  She  had  even  seemed  to  be  better  than 
usual,  for  the  people  in  their  extraordinary  costumes, 
particularly  the  opera  singers,  had  amused  her,  and  she 
had  returned  to  the  court  of  the  hotel  and  listened  with 
interest  to  the  various  "  experiences. "  Finally  they  had 
climbed  the  four  flights  of  stairs  to  their  rooms  and  he 
had  helped  her  to  dress — her  maid  had  disappeared. 
They  had  remained  until  the  afternoon  when  the  un 
controlled  fires  in  the  region  behind  the  hotel  alarmed 


64  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

them,  and  with  what  belongings  they  could  carry  they 
had  gone  up  to  the  St.  Francis  Hotel,  where  they  engaged 
rooms  and  left  their  portmanteaux,  intending  to  climb 
to  the  top  of  the  hill,  if  Marian  were  able,  and  watch  the 
fire. 

Half  way  up  the  hill  she  had  fainted  and  he  had 
carried  her  into  a  house  whose  door  stood  open.  There 
was  no  one  in  the  house,  and  after  a  futile  attempt  to 
revive  her,  he  had  run  back  to  the  hotel  to  find  a  doctor. 
But  among  the  few  people  that  had  the  courage  to  re 
main  so  close  to  the  fire  there  was  no  doctor.  The  hotel 
clerk  gave  him  an  address  but  told  him  not  to  be  too 
sure  of  finding  his  man  at  home  as  all  the  physicians 
were  probably  attending  the  injured,  helping  to  clear 
the  threatened  hospitals,  or  at  work  among  the  refugees, 
any  number  of  women  having  embraced  the  inopportune 
occasion  to  become  mothers. 

The  doctor  whose  address  was  given  him  not  only  was 
out  but  his  house  was  deserted;  and,  distracted,  he  re 
turned  to  his  sister. 

He  knew  at  once  that  she  was  dead. 

He  sat  beside  her  for  hours,  too  stunned  to  think.  .  .  . 
It  was  some  time  during  the  night  that  the  roar  of  the 
fire  seemed  to  grow  louder,  the  smoke  in  the  street 
denser.  Then  it  occurred  to  him  that  the  inhabitants 
of  this  house  as  well  as  of  the  doctor's,  which  was  close 
by,  would  not  have  abandoned  their  homes  if  they  had 
not  believed  that  some  time  during  the  night  they  would 
be  in  the  path  of  the  flames.  And  he  had  heard  that  the 
pipes  of  the  one  water  system  had  been  broken  by  the 
earthquake. 

He  had  caught  up  the  body  of  his  sister  and  walked 
westward  until,  worn  out,  he  had  entered  the  basement 
of  another  empty  house,  and  there  he  had  fallen  asleep. 
When  he  awakened  he  was  under  the  impression  for  a 
moment  that  he  was  in  the  crater  of  a  volcano  in  erup 
tion.  Dynamite  was  going  off  in  all  directions,  he  could 
hear  the  loud  crackling  of  flames  behind  his  refuge ;  and 
as  he  took  the  body  in  his  arms  once  more  and  ran  out, 
the  fire  was  sweeping  up  the  hill  not  a  block  below. 

In  spite  of  the  smoke  he  inferred  that  the  way  was 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  65 

clear  to  the  west,  and  he  had  run  on  and  on,  once  nar 
rowly  escaping  a  dynamiting  area  where  he  saw  men  like 
dark  shadows  prowling  and  then  rushing  off  madly  in  an 
automobile  .  .  .  dodging  the  fire,  losing  his  way,  once 
finding  himself  confronting  a  wall  of  flames,  finally 
crossing  a  wide  avenue  .  .  .  stumbling  on  ...  and 
on.  ... 

IV 

Gora  decided  that  blunt  callousness  would  help  him 
more  than  sympathy.  He  had  recovered  his  self-control, 
but  his  eyes  were  still  wide  with  pain  and  horror. 

'  *  Cremation  is  a  clean  honest  finish  for  any  one, ' '  she 
remarked,  lighting  another  cigarette  and  offering  him 
her  match.    * '  I  should  have  left  her  if  she  had  been  my , 
sister  in  that  first  house.  .  .  ." 

"I  might  have  done  it — in  London.  But  .  .  .  per 
haps  I  was  not  quite  myself.  ...  I  couldn't  leave  her 
to  be  burned  alone  in  a  strange  country.  Besides,  the 
horror  of  it  would  have  killed  my  mother.  Marian  was 
the  youngest.  I  felt  bound  to  do  my  best.  .  .  .  Perhaps 
I  didn't  think  at  all.  ...  If  this  house  is  threatened  I 
shall  take  her  out  to  the  Presidio,  where  I  happen  to 
know  a  man — Colonel  Norris.  Thanks  to  your  hos 
pitality  I  can  make  it." 

"But  naturally  you  cannot  go  very  fast  .  .  .  and 
these  sentries  ...  I  am  not  sure.  ...  I  don't  see  how 
you  escaped  others  .  .  .  the  smoke  and  excitement,  I 
suppose.  ...  I  think  if  you  are  determined  to  take  her 
it  would  be  better  if  I  helped  you  to  carry  her  out  to  the 
cemetery.  We  can  put  her  on  a  narrow  wire  mattress 
and  cover  her,  so  that  it  will  look  as  if  we  were  rescuing 
an  invalid.  Out  there  you  can  put  her  in  one  of  the 
stone  vaults.  Some  of  the  doors  are  sure  to  have  been 
broken  by  the  earthquake. ' ' 

The  young  man,  who  had  given  his  name  as  Richard 
Gathbroke,  gratefully  rested  in  her  brother's  room  while 
she  kept  watch  on  the  roof.  It  was  night  but  the  very 
atmosphere  seemed  ablaze  and  the  dynamiting  as  well  as 
the  approaching  wall  of  fire  looked  very  close.  Finally 
when  sparks  fell  on  the  roof  she  descended  hastily  and 


66  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

awakened  her  guest,  making  him  welcome?  to  her 
brother's  linen  as  well  as  to  a  basin  of  precious  water. 
When  he  joined  her  in  the  kitchen  he  had  even  shaved 
himself  and  she  saw  that  he  looked  both  older  and 
younger  than  Americans  of  his  age;  which,  he  had  told 
her,  was  twenty-three.  His  fair  well-modeled  face 
was  now  composed  and  his  hazel  eyes  were  brilliant  and 
steady.  He  had  a  tall  trim  military  body,  and  very 
straight  bright  brown  hair;  a  rather  conventional  figure 
of  a  well-bred  Englishman,  Gora  assumed;  intelligent, 
and  both  more  naif  and  more  worldly-wise  than  young 
Americans  of  his  class:  but  whose  potentialities  had 
hardly  been  apprehended  even  by  himself. 

They  ate  as  substantial  a  breakfast  as  could  be  pre 
pared  hastily  over  a  spirit  lamp,  filled  their  pockets  with 
stale  bread,  cake,  and  small  tins  of  food,  and  then  car 
ried  a  narrow  wire  mattress  from  one  of  the  smaller 
bedrooms  to  the  front  room  on  the  first  floor. 


CHAPTER  X 


HPHE  patrol  had  been  relieved  by  another,  an  older 
*  man,  and  sober,  He  merely  reproved  them  for  dis 
obeying  orders,  glanced  sympathetically  at  the  presumed 
invalid,  and  directed  them  to  one  of  the  temporary  hos 
pitals  some  blocks  farther  west. 

Gora,  like  all  imaginative  people,  had  a  horror  of  the 
corpse,  and  averted  her  eyes  from  the  head  of  the  dead 
girl  outlined  under  the  veil  she  had  thrown  over  it. 
Gathbroke  was  obliged  to  walk  backward,  and  as  both 
were  extremely  uncomfortable,  there  was  no  attempt  at 
conversation  until  they  reached  the  gates  of  the  old 
cemetery  the  great  pioneers  had  called  Lone  Mountain 
and  their  more  commonplace  descendants  rechristened 
Laurel  Hill. 

The  glare  of  the  distant  fire  illuminated  the  silent 
city  where  a  thousand  refugees  slept  as  heavily  as  the 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  67 

dead,  and  as  they  ascended  the  steep  path  they  examined 
anxiously  the  vaults  on  either  side.  Finally  Gora  ex 
claimed  : 

" There!    On  the  right." 

The  iron  doors  of  a  once  eminent  resident's  last  dwell 
ing  had  been  half  twisted  from  their  rusty  hinges. 
Gathbroke  threw  his  weight  on  them  and  they  fell  at  his 
feet.  He  and  Gora  carried  in  the  body  and  lifted  it  to 
an  empty  shelf. 

"Good!"  Gora  gave  a  long  sigh  of  relief.  "Nothing 
can  happen  to  her  now.  Even  the  entrance  faces  away 
from  the  fire  and  there  is  nothing  but  grass  in  the  ceme 
tery  to  burn,  anyhow."  She  held  her  electric  torch  to 
the  inscription  above  the  entrance.  "Better  write  down 
the  name — Randolph.  There's  one  of  the  tragedies  of 
the  sixties  for  you!  An  Englishman  the  hero,  by  the 
way.  Nina  Randolph  is  a  handful  of  dust  in  there  some 
where.  Heigho !  What 's  the  difference,  anyway  ?  Even 
if  she'd  been  happy  she'd  be  dead  by  this  time — or  too 
old  to  have  a  past. ' ' 

Gathbroke  replaced  the  gates,  for  he  feared  prowling 
dogs,  and  they  walked  down  to  the  street  and  sat  on  the 
grass,  leaning  against  the  wall  of  the  cemetery,  as  dis 
sociated  as  possible  from  the  rows  of  uneasy  sleepers. 


n 

They  slept  a  little  between  blasts  of  dynamite,  the 
snoring  of  men  and  women  and  cries  of  children ;  finally 
at  Gora's  suggestion  climbed  to  the  steep  bare  summit  of 
Calvary  to  observe  the  progress  of  the  fire. 

The  unlighted  portion  of  the  city  beneath  them  looked 
like  a  dead  planet.  Beyond  was  a  tossing  sea  of  flame 
whose  far-reaching  violent  glare  seemed  to  project  it 
inimitably. 

* '  Nothing  can  stop  it ! "  gasped  Gora ;  and  that  terrific 
red  mass  of  energy  and  momentum  did  look  as  if  its  only 
curb  would  be  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

^  They  talked  until  morning.    He  was  very  frank  about 
himself,  finding  no  doubt  a  profound  comfort  in  human 


68  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

companionship  after  those  long  hours  of  ghastly  com 
munion  down  in  that  flaming  jungle. 

He  was  a  younger  son  and  in  the  army,  not  badly  off, 
as  his  mother  made  him  a  goodish  allowance.  She  had 
come  of  a  large  manufacturing  family  in  the  North  and 
had  brought  a  fortune  to  the  empty  treasury  of  the 
young  peer  she  had — happily  for  both— fallen  in  love 
with. 

He  had  wanted  to  go  into  business — politics  later  per 
haps — after  he  left  Eton,  feeling  that  he  had  inherited 
some  of  the  energy  of  his  maternal  grandfather,  but  his 
mother  had  insisted  upon  the  army  and  as  he  really 
didn't  care  so  very  much,  he  had  succumbed. 

"But  I'm  not  sure  I  shan't  regret  it.  It  isn't  as  if 
there  were  any  prospect  of  a  real  war.  I'd  like  a  fight 
ing  career  well  enough,  but  not  picayune  affairs  out  in 
India  or  Africa.  I  can't  help  thinking  I  have  a  talent 
for  business.  Sounds  beastly  conceited,"  he  added 
hastily.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  a  modest  youth. 
* l  But  after  all  one  of  us  should  inherit  something  of  the 
sort.  Perhaps,  later,  who  knows?  At  least  I  can  thank 
heaven  that  I  wasn't  born  in  my  brother's  place.  He 
likes  politics,  and  his  fate  is  the  House  of  Lords.  A 
man  might  as  well  go  and  embalm  himself  at  once.  Do 
you  know  Gwynne  ?  Elton  Gwynne  ?  John  Gwynne  he 
calls  himself  out  here. ' ' 

"I've  heard  of  him.  He's  been  written  up  a  good 
deal.  I  don't  know  any  one  of  that  sort. " 

' 'Keally?  Well,  don't  you  see?  he  inherited  a  peer 
age;  grandfather  died  and  his  cousin  shot  himself  to 
cover  up  a  scandal.  Gwynne  was  in  the  full  tide  of  his 
career  in  the  House  of  Commons  and  simply  couldn't 
stand  for  it.  He  cut  the  whole  business  and  came  out 
here  where  he  and  his  mother  had  a  large  estate — Lady 
Victoria's  mother  or  grandmother  was  a  Spanish-Cali- 
f ornian.  Of  course  he  chucked  the  title.  He 's  a  sort  of 
cousin  of  mine  and  I  looked  him  up,  and  dined  with 
him  the  other  night.  He  was  born  in  the  United  States, 
by  a  fluke  as  it  were,  and  has  made  up  his  mind  to  be  an 
American  for  the  rest  of  his  life  and  carve  out  a  political 
career  in  this  country.  I'd  have  done  the  same  thing, 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  69 

by  Jove!  First-class  solution  .  .  .  although  it's  a  pretty 
hard  wrench  to  give  up  your  own  country.  But  when  a 
man  is  too  active  to  stagnate — there  you  are.  ...  I  wish 
I  had  known  where  to  find  him  to-day,  but  he  lives  on 
his  ranch  and  I  've  only  seen  him  once  since.  Lady  Vic 
toria  took  me  to  a  ball  night  before  last — Good  God! 
Was  it  only  that?  .  .  .  and  we  were  to  have  met  again 
for  lunch  to-day." 

1  'It  is  very  easy  and  picturesque  to  renounce  when 
you  possess  just  about  everything  in  life!  If  I  at 
tempted  to  renounce  any  of  my  privileges,  for  instance. 
I  should  simply  move  down  and  out." 


m 

He  turned  his  head  and  regarded  her  squarely  for  the 
first  time.  Heretofore  she  had  been  simply  a  friend  in 
need,  a  jolly  good  sport,  incidentally  a  female.  If  she 
had  been  beautiful  he  should  have  noted  that  fact  at 
once,  for  he  could  not  imagine  the  circumstances  in  which 
beauty  would  not  exert  an  immediate  and  powerful  influ 
ence,  however  transitory. 

Miss  Dwight  was  not  beautiful,  but  he  concluded  dur 
ing  that  frank  stare  that  her  face  was  interesting;  dis 
turbingly  so,  although  he  was  unable  at  the  moment  to 
find  the  reason.  It  was  possible  that  in  favorable  con 
ditions  she  would  be  handsome. 

She  had  a  mass  of  dark  brown  hair  that  seemed  to 
sink  heavily  over  her  low  forehead  until  it  almost  met 
the  heavy  black  eyebrows.  She  had  removed  her  hat 
and  the  thick  loose  coils  made  her  look  topheavy;  for 
the  face,  if  wide  across  the  high  cheek-bones  and  sharply 
accentuated  with  a  salient  jaw,  was  not  large.  The  eyes 
were  a  light  cold  gray,  oval  and  far  apart.  Her  nose 
was  short  and  strong  and  had  the  same  cohibitive  ex 
pression  as  the  straight  sharply-cut  mouth — when  not 
ironic  or  smiling.  Her  teeth  were  beautiful. 

She  had  put  on  her  best  tailored  suit  and  he  saw  that 
her  "figger"  was  good  although  too  short  and  full  for 
his  taste.  He  liked  the  long  and  stately  slenderness 
that  his  own  centuries  had  bred.  But  her  hands  and 


70  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

well-shod  feet  were  narrow  if  not  small,  and  he  decided 
that  she  just  escaped  possessing  what  modern  slang  so 
aptly  expressed  as  ' l  class. ' '  Possibly  it  was  the  defiance 
in  her  square  chin,  the  almost  angry  poise  of  her  head, 
that  betrayed  her  as  an  unwilling  outsider. 

"Bad  luck?"  he  asked  sympathetically. 

She  gave  him  a  brief  outline  of  her  family  history, 
overemphasizing  as  Americans  will — those  that  lay  any 
claim  to  descent — the  previous  importance  of  the 
Dwights  and  the  Mortimers  in  Utica,  N.  Y.  Incidentally, 
she  gave  him  a  flashlight  picture  of  the  social  conditions 
in  San  Francisco. 

He  was  intensely  interested.  "Really!  I  should  have 
said  there  would  be  the  complete  democracy  in  Cali 
fornia  if  anywhere.  Of  course  no  Englishman  of  my 
generation  expects  to  find  San  Franciscans  in  cowboy 
costume ;  but  I  must  say  I  was  astonished  at  the  luxury 
and  fashion  not  only  at  those  Southern  California  hotels, 
where,  to  be  sure,  most  of  the  guests  are  from  your  older 
Eastern  states,  but  at  that  ball  Lady  Victoria  took  me  to. 
It  was  magnificent  in  all  its  details,  originality  combined 
with  the  most  perfect  taste.  Of  course  there  were  not  as 
many  jewels  as  one  would  see  at  a  great  London  func 
tion,  but  the  toilettes  could  not  have  been  surpassed. 
And  as  for  the  women — stunning!  Such  beauty  and 
style  and  breeding.  I  confess  I  didn't  expect  quite  all 
that.  Miss  Bascom,  Miss  Thorndyke,  and  an  exquisite 
young  thing,  Miss  Groome " 

"Oh,  those  are  the  haute  noblesse."  Gora's  upper  lip 
curled  satirically.  "No  doubt  they  lay  claim  that  their 
roots  mingle  with  your  own." 

"Well,  we'd  be  proud  of  'em." 

"That  was  the  Hofer  ball,  wasn't  it?  Do  you  mean 
to  say  that  Alexina  Groome  was  there?  Mrs.  Groome, 
who  is  the  most  imposing  relic  of  the  immortal  eighties, 
is  supposed  to  know  no  one  of  twentieth-century 
vintage." 

"I  am  sure  of  it.  I  danced  with  her  twice  and  would 
have  jolly  well  liked  to  monopolize  her,  but  she  was  too 
plainly  bowled  over  by  a  fellow — your  name,  by  Jove — 
Dwight.  Good-looking  chap,  clean-cut,  .fine  shoulders, 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  71 

danced  like  a  god — if  gods  do  dance.  I'm  an  awful 
duffer  at  it,  by  the  way." 

"Mortimer?  Is  it  possible?  And  he — was  he  bowled 
over?" 

"Ra — ther!    A  case,  I  should  say." 

"How  unfortunate.  Of  course  he  hasn't  the  ghost  of 
a  chance.  Mrs.  Groome  won't  have  a  young  man  inside 
her  doors  whose  family  doesn't  belong  root  and  branch 
to  her  old  set.  Fine  prospect  for  a  poor  clerk ! ' ' 

"Jove!  I've  a  mind  to  stay  and  try  my  luck.  Oh!" 
He  dropped  his  face  in  his  hands.  "I'm  forgetting!" 

"Well,  forget  again."  Gora's  voice  expressed  more 
sympathy  than  she  felt.  She  deeply  resented  his  imme 
diate  acceptance  of  her  social  alienage,  even  relegating 
her  personal  appearance  to  another  class  than  that  of 
the  delicate  flora  he  had  seen  blooming  for  the  night 
against  the  most  artful  background  of  the  season. 

However  ...  he  was  the  first  man  she  had  ever  met 
in  her  limited  experience  who  seemed  to  combine  the 
three  magnetisms.  .  .  .  Who  could  tell  .  .  . 

"I  should  be  delighted  if  you  would  cut  my  brother 
out  before  it  goes  any  further,"  she  said  untruthfully. 
* '  It  will  save  him  a  heartache.  ...  Where  could  you 
meet  her  now  ?  Society  is  disrupted  here.  But  of  course 
Mr.  Gwynne  visits  down  the  peninsula.  He  could  take 
you  to  any  one  of  those  exclusive  abodes  where  you 
would  be  likely  to  meet  the  little  Alexina.  She  is  only 
eighteen,  by  the  way." 

"That  is  rather  young,"  he  said  dubiously,  "I  don't 
fancy  her  conversation  would  be  very  interesting,  and, 
after  all,  that  is  what  it  comes  down  to,  isn't  it?  I've 
been  disappointed  so  often."  He  signed  and  looked 
quite  thirty-five.  "Still,  she  has  personality.  Five  or 
six  years  hence  she  may  be  a  wonder.  ...  I  don't  think 
I  'd  care  about  educating  and  developing  a  girl — I  like  a 
pal  right  away.  .  .  .  What  an  ass  I  am,  rotting  like  this. 
Your  brother  has  as  much  chance  as  I  have.  Younger 
sons  with  no  prospect  of  succession  are  of  exactly  no 
account  with  the  American  mamma.  I've  met  a  few  of 
them." 

'  *  Oh,  I  fancy  birth  would  be  enough  for  Mrs.  Groome. 


72  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

She's  quite  dotty  on  the  subject,  and  the  people  out 
here  are  simpler  than  Easterners,  anyhow.  Simpler  and 
more  ingenuous." 

"How  is  it  you  know  so  much  about  it  all,  if  you  are 
not,  as  you  say — pardon  me — a  part  of  it?" 

' '  I  wonder ! ' '  She  gave  a  short  hard  little  laugh.  ' '  I 
don't  know  that  I  could  explain,  except  that  it  all  has 
seemed  to  me  from  birth  a  part  of  my  blood  and  bones 
and  gristle.  An  accident,  a  lucky  strike  on  my  father's 
part  when  he  first  came  out  here",  and  they  would  know 
me  as  well  to-day  as  I  know  them.  And  then  ...  of 
course  ...  it  is  a  small  community.  We  live  on  the 
doorsteps  of  the  rich  and  important,  as  it  were.  It 
would  be  hard  for  us  not  to  know.  It  just  comes  to  us. 
We  are  magnets.  I  suppose  all  this  seems  to  you — born 
on  the  inside — quite  ignominious." 

"Well,  my  mother  would  have  remained  on  the  out 
side — that  is  to  say  a  quiet  little  provincial — if  her 
father  hadn't  happened  to  make  a  fortune  with  his  iron 
works.  I  can  understand  well  enough,  but,  if  you  don't 
mind  my  saying  so,  I  think  it  rather  a  pity. ' ' 

"Pity?" 

"I  mean  thinking  so  much  about  it,  don't  you  know? 
I  fancy  it's  the  result  of  living  in  a  small  city  where 
there  are  only  a  few  hundred  people  between  you  and 
the  top  instead  of  a  few  hundred  thousand.  I  express 
myself  so  badly,  but  what  I  mean  is — as  I  make  it  out — 
it  is,  with  you,  a  case  of  so  near  and  yet  so  far.  In  a 
great  city  like  London  now  (great  in  generations — cen 
turies — as  well  as  in  numbers)  you'd  just  accept  the 
bare  fact  and  go  about  your  business.  Not  a  ghost  of  a 
show,  don't  you  see?  Here  you've  just  missed  it,  and, 
the  middle  class  always  flowing  into  the  upper  class,  you 
feel  that  you  should  get  your  chance  any  minute.  Ought 
to  have  had  it  long  ago.  ...  I  can't  imagine,  for  in 
stance,  that  if  my  mother  had  married  the  son  of  my 
grandfather's  partner  that  I  should  have  wasted  much 
time  wondering  why  I  wasn't  asked  to  the  Elizabethan 
Hall  on  the  hill.  Of  course  I  don't  mean  there  isn't 
envy  enough  in  the  old  countries,  but  it's  more  passive 
.  .  .  without  hope.  ..." 

He  felt  awkward  and  officious  but  he  was  sorry  is*. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  73 

her  and  would  have  liked  to  discharge  his  debt  by  help 
ing  her  toward  a  new  point  of  view,  if  possible. 

She  replied:  "That's  easy  to  say,  and  besides  you 
are  a  man.  My  brother,  who  is  only  a  clerk  in  a  whole 
sale  house,  has  been  taken  up  and  goes  everywhere. 
They  don't  know  that  I  even  exist." 

"Well,  that's  their  loss,"  he  said  gallantly.  "Can't 
you  make  'em  sit  up,  some  way  ?  Women  make  fortunes 
sometimes,  these  days.  And  they're  in  about  everything 
except  the  Army  and  Navy.  Business  ?  Or  haven 't  you 
a  talent  of  some  sort  ?  You  have — pardon  me  again,  but 
we  have  been  uncommonly  personal  to-night — a  strong 
and  individual  face  .  .  .  and  personality;  no  doubt  of 
that." 

Gora  would  far  rather  he  had  told  her  she  was  pretty 
and  irresistible,  but  she  thrilled  to  his  praise,  neverthe 
less.  It  was  the  first  compliment  she  had  ever  received 
from  any  man  but  the  commonplace  and  unimportant 
friends  her  brother  had  brought  home  occasionally  before 
he  had  been  introduced  to  society;  he  took  good  care 
to  bring  home  none  of  his  new  friends. 

Her  heart  leapt  toward  this  exalted  young  English 
man,  who  might  have  stepped  direct  from  one  of  the 
novels  of  his  land  and  class  .  .  .  even  the  stern  and 
anxious  moderns  who  had  made  England's  middle-class 
the  fashion,  occasionally  drew  a  well-bred  and  attractive 
man  from  life.  .  .  .  She  turned  to  him  with  a  smile  that 
banished  the  somber  ironic  expression  of  her  face,  illu 
minating  it  as  if  the  drooping  spirit  within  had  sud 
denly  lit  a  torch  and  held  it  behind  those  strange  pale 
eyes. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I've  never  told  any  one — but  my 
teacher;  I've  taken  lessons  with  him  for  a  year.  He  is 
an  instructor  in  the  technique  of  the  short  story,  and 
has  turned  out  quite  a  few  successful  magazine  writers. 
He  believes  that  I  have  talent.  I  have  been  studying 
over  at  the  University  to  the  same  end — English,  biol 
ogy,  psychology,  sociology.  I'm  determined  not  to  start 
as  a  raw  amateur.  Oh !  Perhaps  I  have  made  a  mistake 
in  telling  you.  You  may  be  one  of  those  men  that  are 
repelled  by  intellectual  women!" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.    Don't  belong  to  that  class  of  duffers 


74  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

anyway.  I  don't  like  masculine  women,  or  hard  women 
— run  from  a  lot  of  our  girls  that  are  so  hard  a  diamond 
wouldn't  cut  'em.  But  I've  got  an  elder  sister — she's 
thirty  now — who's  the  cleverest  woman  I  ever  met,  al 
though  she  doesn't  pretend  to  do  anything.  She  won't 
bother  with  any  but  clever  and  exceptional  people — has 
something  of  a  salon.  My  parents  hate  it — she  lives 
alone  in  a  flat  in  London — but  they  can't  help  it.  My 
grandfather  Doubleton  liked  her  a  lot  and  left  her  two 
thousand  a  year.  I  wish  you  knew  her.  She  is  charm 
ing  and  feminine,  as  much  so  as  any  of  those  I  met  at 
the  ball ;  and  so  are  many  of  the  women  that  go  to  her 
flat " 

" Don't  you  think  I  am  feminine?"  asked  Gora  irri- 
sistibly.  He  had  a  way  of  making  her  feel,  quite  abrupt 
ly,  as  if  she  had  run  a  needle  under  her  fingernail. 

Once  more  he  turned  to  her  his  detached  but  keen 
young  eyes. 

"Well  .  .  .  not  exactly  in  the  sense  I  mean.  You 
look  too  much  the  fighter  .  .  .  but  that  may  be  purely 
the  result  of  circumstances,"  he  added  hastily:  the 
strange  eyes  under  their  heavy  down-drawn  brows  were 
lowering  at  him.  "You  are  not  masculine,  no,  not  a 
bit." 

Once  more  Miss  Dwight  curled  her  upper  lip.  "I 
wonder  if  you  would  have  said  the  first  part  of  that  if 
you  had  met  me  at  the  Hofer  ball  and  I  had  worn  a 
gown  of  flame-colored  chiffon  and  satin,  and  my  hair 
marcelled  like  every  other  woman  present — except  those 
embalmed  relics  of  the  seventies,  who,  I  have  heard,  rise 
from  the  grave  whenever  a  great  ball  is  given,  and 
appear  in  a  built-up  red-brown  wig.  .  .  .  And  a  string 
of  pearls  round  my  throat?  My  neck  and  arms  are 
quite  good;  although  I've  never  possessed  an  evening 
gown,  I  know  I'd  look  quite  well  in  one  .  .  .  my  best." 

He  laughed.  '  *  It  does  make  a  difference.  I  wish  you 
had  been  there.  I  am  sure  you  are  as  good  a  dancer  as 
you  are  a  pal.  But  still  ...  I  think  I  should  have 
recognized  the  fighter,  even  if  you  had  been  born  in  the 
California  equivalent  for  the  purple.  I  fancy  you  would 
have  found  some  cause  or  other  to  get  your  teeth  into 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  75 

once  in  a  while.  Tell  me,  don't  you  rather  like  the  idea 
of  taking  Life  by  the  throat  and  forcing  it  to  deliver?" 

' '  I  wonder  ?  .  .  .  perhaps  .  .  .  but  that  does  not  miti 
gate  my  resentment  that  I  am  on  the  outside  of  every 
thing  when  I  belong  on  the  in.  I  should  never  have 
been  forced  to  strive  after  what  is  mine  by  natural 
right" 

"Well,  don't  let  it  make  a  socialist  of  you.  That  is 
such  a  cheap  revenge  on  society.  .  .  .  Confession  of 
failure;  and  nothing  in  it." 


IV 

He  looked  at  his  watch :  '  *  Eight  o  'clock.  1 11  be  get 
ting  on  to  the  Presidio.  Why  don 't  you  come  with  me  ? " 

Gora's  feminine  instincts  arose  from  a  less  perverted 
source  than  her  social.  She  shook  her  head  with  a  smile. 

"I  don't  want  to  go  any  farther  from  my  house.  I 
shall  slip  down  my  first  chance;  and  I  have  plenty  to 
eat.  Perhaps  you  will  come  to  see  me  before  you  go  if 
my  house  is  spared." 

"Bather.  What  is  the  number?  And  if  the  house 
goes  I  '11  find  you  somehow. ' ' 

He  took  her  hand  in  both  his  and  shook  it  warmly. 
"You  are  the  best  pal  in  the  world " 

"Now  don't  make  me  a  nice  little  speech.  I'm  only 
too  glad.  Go  out  to  the  Presidio  and  get  a  hot  breakfast 
and  attend — to — to  your  affairs.  I  am  sure  everything 
will  be  all  right,  although  you  may  not  be  able  to  get 
away  as  soon  as  you  hope." 

"I  don't  like  leaving  you  alone  here " 

"Alone?"  She  waved  her  hand  at  the  hundreds  of 
recumbent  forms  in  the  cemeteries  and  on  the  lower 
slopes  of  Calvary.  'rl  probably  shall  never  be  so  well 
protected  again.  Please  go." 

He  shook  her  hand  once  more,  ran  down  the  hill, 
turned  and  waved  his  cap,  and  trudged  off  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  Presidio. 


76  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


She  slept  in  her  own  house  that  night,  for  dynamiting 
by  miners  summoned  from  Grass  Valley  by  General 
Funston,  and  a  change  of  wind,  had  saved  the  western 
portion  of  the  city.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  Gora 
experienced  a  sense  of  profound  gratitude,  almost  of 
happiness.  She  felt  that  only  a  little  more  would  make 
her  quite  happy.  Her  lodgers,  even  her  absorbed 
brother,  noticed  that  her  manner,  her  expression,  had 
perceptibly  softened.  She  herself  noticed  it  most  of  all. 


CHAPTER  XI 


/^ATHBROKE  met  Alexina  Groome  again  a  week 
^  later. 

On  Saturday,  when  the  fire  was  over,  and  she  could 
retreat  decently  and  in  good  order,  Mrs.  Groome,  to  her 
young  daughter's  secret  anguish,  had  consented  to  rest 
her  nerves  for  a  fortnight  at  Rincona,  Mrs.  Abbott's 
home  in  Alta. 

As  Gora  had  predicted,  Gathbroke  found  that  it  would 
have  been  hardly  more  difficult  to  move  his  sister's  body, 
now  at  an  undertaker's  in  Fillmore  Street,  out  of  the 
state  in  war-time  than  in  the  wake  of  a  city's  disaster, 
which  was  scattering  its  population  to  every  point  of 
the  railroad  compass.  He  had  refused  the  space  in  the 
baggage  car  offered  to  him  by  the  company;  it  should 
be  a  private  car  or  nothing ;  and  for  that,  in  spite  of  all 
the  influence  Gwynne  and  his  powerful  friends  could 
bring  to  bear,  he  must  wait. 

Meanwhile  Gwynne  had  asked  him  to  stay  with  him 
self  and  his  mother,  Lady  Victoria  Gwynne,  at  the  house 
of  his  fiancee,  Isabel  Otis,  on  Russian  Hill ;  a  massive  cliff 
rising  above  one  of  the  highest  of  the  city's  northern 
hills,  whose  old  houses,  clinging  to  its  steep  sides  had 
escaped  the  fire  that  roared  about  its  base.  To-day  it 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  77 

was  a  green  and  lofty  oasis  in  the  midst  of  miles  of 
smoking  ruins. 

Gathbroke  was  as  nervous  as  only  a  young  Englishman 
within  his  immemorial  armor  can  be.  Gwynne,  who  had 
gone  through  the  same  nerve-racking  crisis,  although 
from  different  causes,  understood  what  he  suffered  and 
pressed  him  into  service  in  the  distribution  of  govern 
ment  rations,  and  garments  to  the  different  refugee 
camps.  But  Gathbroke  had  the  active  imagination  of 
intelligent  youth,  and  he  never  forgot  to  blame  himself 
for  lingering  in  New  York  with  some  interesting  chaps 
he  had  met  on  the  Majestic,  and  afterward  in  South 
ern  California,  seduced  by  its  soft  climate  and  violent 
color.  Unquestionably,  if  he  had  stayed  on  his  job,  as 
these  expressive  Americans  put  it,  his  sister  would  have 
been  in  New  York,  possibly  on  the  Atlantic  Ocean  when 
San  Francisco  shook  herself  to  ruin. 

"But  not  necessarily  alive, "  said  Lady  Victoria  cal 
lously,  removing  her  cigar,  her  heavy  eyes  that  looked 
like  empty  volcanos,  staring  down  over  the  smoldering 
waste.  ' '  People  with  heart  disease  don 't  invariably  wait 
for  an  earthquake  to  jolt  them  out  of  life.  Assume  that 
her  time  had  come  and  think  of  something  else  or  you'll 
become  a  silly  ass  of  a  neurotic." 

Gwynne,  more  sympathetic,  continued  to  find  him  what 
distraction  he  could,  and  one  day  drove  him  down  the 
Peninsula  with  a  message  from  the  Committee  of  Fifty 
to  Tom  Abbott;  who  had  caught  a  heavy  cold  during 
those  three  days  when  he  had  driven  a  car  filled  with 
dynamite  and  had  had  scarcely  an  hour  for  rest.  He 
was  now  at  home  in  bed. 

n 

The  Abbott's  place,  Rincona,  stood  on  a  foothill  be 
hind  the  other  estates  of  Alta  and  surrounded  by  a  park 
of  two  hundred  acres  set  thick  with  magnificent  oaks. 
Gathbroke  had  never  seen  finer  ones  in  England  or 
France.  Gwynne  before  entering  the  avenue  drove  to 
an  elevation  above  the  house  and  stopped  the  car  for  a 
moment. 


78  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

The  great  San  Mateo  valley  looked  like  a  close  forest 
of  ancient  oaks  broken  inartistically  by  the  roofs  of 
houses  shorn  of  their  chimneys.  Beyond,  on  the  eastern 
side  of  a  shallow  southern  arm  of  the  Bay  of  San  Fran 
cisco,  was  the  long  range  of  the  Contra  Costa  mountains, 
its  waving  indented  slopes  incredibly  graceful  in  out 
line  and  lovely  in  color.  Gwynne  had  pointed  out  their 
ever  changing  tints  and  shades  as  they  drove  through 
the  valley;  at  the  moment  they  were  heliotrope  deepen 
ing  to  purple  in  the  hollows. 

Behind  the  foothills  above  Kincona  rose  the  lofty 
mountains  which  in  Maria  Abbott's  youth  had  seemed 
to  tower  above  the  valley  a  solid  wall  of  redwoods;  but 
long  since  plundered  and  defaced  for  the  passing  needs 
of  man. 

" Great  country — what?"  said  Gwynne,  starting  the 
car.  "You  couldn't  pry  me  away  from  it — that  is,  un 
less  I  have  the  luck  to  represent  it  in  Washington  half 
the  year.  You  11  be  coming  back  yourself  some  day. ' ' 

' '  I  ?    Never.     I  liate  the  sight  of  its  grinning  blue  sky 

after  the  red  horror  of  those  three  days.     1  haven 't  seen 

a  cloud  as  big  as  my  hand,  and  in  common  decency  it 

should  howl  and  stream  for  months." 

"Well,   forget  it  for  a  day.    Perhaps  you  will  be 

placed  next  the  fair  Alexina  at  luncheon ' ' 

"Alexina  .  .  .  ?" 

' '  Groome.    You  must  have  met  her  at  the  Hof  er  ball. ' ' 

' '  She— what— possible ' ' 

Gwynne  looked  at  his  stuttering  and  flushed  young 
cousin  and  burst  into  laughter. 

"As  bad  as  that,  was  it?  Well,  she's  not  bespoken  as 
far  as  I  know.  Wade  in  and  win.  You  have  my  bless 
ing.  She  is  almost  as  beautiful  as  Isabel " 

' '  She 's  quite  as  beautiful  as  Miss  Otis. ' ' 
"Oh,  very  well.     No  doubt  I'd  think  so  myself  if  I 
hadn't  happened  to  meet  Isabel  first,  and  if  I  were  not 
too  old  for  her  anyway." 

Gwynne  could  think  of  no  better  remedy  for  demoral 
ized  nerves  than  a  flirtation  with  a  resourceful  California 
girl,  and  if  Dick  annexed  a  living  companion  for  his  try 
ing  journey  to  England  so  much  the  better. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  79 

Gathbroke's  excitement  subsided  quickly.  He  was  in 
no  condition  for  sustained  enthusiasm.  He  felt  as  if 
quite  ten  years  had  passed  since  he  had  half  fallen  in 
love  with  Alexina  Groome  in  a  ball  room  that  was  now 
a  charred  heap  in  the  sodden  wreck  of  a  city  he  barely 
could  conjure  in  memory. 

Besides,  he  had  half  fallen  in  love  so  often.  And 
she  was  too  young.  He  had  really  been  more  drawn  to 
that  strange  Miss  Dwight;  upon  whom,  however,  he  had 
not  yet  called. 

He  felt  thankful  that  the  girl  was  too  young  for  his 
critical  taste.  He  wanted  nothing  more  at  present  in 
the  way  of  emotions. 


CHAPTER  XII 


INCONA  had  been  named  in  honor  of  Rincon  Hill, 
where  Tom  Abbott's  grandmother  had  reigned  in 
the  sixties;  a  day,  when  in  order  to  call  on  her  amiable 
rival,  Mrs.  Ballinger,  her  stout  carriage  horses  were 
obliged  to  plow  through  miles  of  sand  hills,  and  to 
make  innumerable  detours  to  avoid  the  steep  masses  of 
rock,  over  which  in  her  grandson 's  day  cable  car  and 
trolley  glided  so  lightly  until  that  morning  of  April 
eighteen,  nineteen  hundred  and  six. 

When  her  husband,  in  common  with  other  distin 
guished  citizens,  bought  an  estate  in  the  San  Mateo  Val 
ley,  she  named  it  Rincona,  to  the  secret  wrath  of  other 
eminent  ladies  who  had  not  thought  of  it  in  time. 

The  house  had  as  little  pretensions  to  architectural 
beauty  as  others  of  its  era,  but  it  was  a  large  compact 
structure  of  some  thirty  rooms,  exclusive  of  the  servants ' 
quarters,  and  with  as  many  outbuildings  as  a  Danish 
farm.  Long  French  windows  opened  upon  a  wide 
piazza,  whose  pillars  had  disappeared  long  since  under 
a  luxuriant  growtfy  of  rose  vines  and  wistaria.  At  its 
base  was  a  bed  of  Parma  violets,  whose  fragrance  a  west- 


80  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

erly  breeze  wafted  to  the  end  of  the  avenue  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  away.  All  about  the  house,  breaking  the  smooth 
lawns,  were  beds  and  trees  of  flowers,  at  this  time  of  the 
year  a  glowing  exotic  mass  of  color;  but  in  the  park  that 
made  up  the  greater  part  of  the  estate  exclusive  of  the 
farms,  the  grass  under  the  superb  oaks  was  merely 
clipped,  the  weeds  and  undergrowth  removed.  The  oaks 
had  been  evenly  shorn  of  their  lower  branches,  which 
gave  them  a  formal  and  somewhat  arrogant  expression, 
as  of  cardinals  and  kings  lifting  their  skirts. 

Alexina  hated  the  enormous  rooms  with  their  high 
frescoed  ceilings  and  heavy  Victorian  furniture;  but 
Maria  Abbott  loved  and  revered  the  old  house,  emblem 
that  it  was  of  a  secure  proud  family  that  had  defied  that 
detestable  (and  disturbing)  old  phrase:  " Three  genera 
tions  from  shirt  sleeves  to  shirt  sleeves/'  The  Abbotts, 
like  the  Ballingers  and  Groomes  and  Gearys  and  many 
others  of  that  ilk,  had  not  come  to  California  in  the  fifties 
and  sixties  as  adventurers,  but  with  all  that  was  needed 
to  give  them  immediate  prestige  in  the  new  community ; 
and,  among  those  that  still  retained  their  estates  in  the 
San  Mateo  Valley,  at  least,  there  was  as  little  prospect 
of  their  reversion  to  shirt  sleeves  as  of  their  conversion 
to  the  red  shirt  of  socialism.  Their  wealth  might  be 
moderate  but  it  was  solid  and  steadfast. 


The  entertaining  of  the  Abbotts,  Yorbas,  Hathaways, 
Montgomerys,  Brannans,  Trennahans,  and  others  of  what 
Alexina  irreverently  called  the  A.  A.,  had  always  been 
ostentatiously  simple,  albeit  a  butler  and  a  staff  of  maids 
had  contributed  to  their  excessive  comfort.  In  the  eigh 
ties,  evening  toilettes  during  the  summer  were  consid 
ered  immoral ;  but  by  degrees,  as  time  tooled  in  its  irre 
sistible  modernities,  they  gradually  fell  into  the  habit  of 
wearing  out  their  winter  party  gowns  at  the  evening 
diversions  of  the  country  season.  Burlingame,  that  bor 
ough  of  concentrated  opulence  founded  in  the  early  nine 
ties  as  a  fashionable  colony,  began  its  career  with  a  cer 
tain  amount  of  simplicity;  but  its  millions  increased  to 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  81 

tens  of  millions;  and  what  in  heaven's  name,  as  Mrs. 
Clement  Hunter,  a  leader  and  an  individual,  once  re 
marked,  is  the  use  of  having  money  if  you  don't  dress 
and  entertain  as  you  would  dream  of  dressing  and  enter 
taining  if  you  didn't  have  a  cent? 

Mrs.  Hunter,  who  had  formed  an  incongruous  and 
somewhat  hostile  alliance  with  Mrs.  Abbott,  knew  that 
her  valuable  friend,  like  others  of  that  " small  and  early" 
band,  resented  the  fact  that  their  standards  no  longer 
counted  outside  of  their  own  set.  Mrs.  Abbott  had 
turned  a  haughty  shoulder  to  Mrs.  Hunter  for  a  time, 
for  she  remembered  her  as,  in  their  school  days,  the  so 
cially  obscure  Lidie  McKann ;  now,  however,  her  husband 
turning  all  he  touched  to  gold,  she  had,  incredibly,  be 
come  one  of  the  most  important  women  in  San  Francisco 
and  Burlingame. 

When  Maria  Abbott  finally  succumbed  she  assured  her 
self  that  curiosity  to  see  the  more  ambushed  glitter  of 
that  meretricious  faubourg  had  nothing  to  do  with  it ;  it 
was  easy  to  persuade  herself  that  she  hoped,  being  an  in 
disputably  smart  woman  herself,  gradually  to  impose  her 
simpler  and  more  appropriate  standards  upon  these  peo 
ple  who  sorely  threatened  the  continued  dominance  of 
the  old  regime. 

Mrs.  Hunter  soon  disabused  her  of  any  such  notion, 
and  during  the  early  days  of  their  acquaintance,  after 
Mrs.  Abbott  came  to  one  of  her  luncheons  attired  in  a 
pique  skirt  and  severe  shirtwaist,  impeccably  cut  and 
worn,  but  entirely  out  of  place  in  an  Italian  palace, 
where  forty  fashionable  women,  some  of  whom  had  mo 
tored  sixty  miles  to  attend  the  function,  were  dressed  as 
they  would  be  at  a  Newport  luncheon,  Mrs.  Hunter  at 
tended  the  next  solemn  affair  at  Rincona  so  overdressed 
and  made  up  that  the  outraged  Altarinos  (as  Alexina 
irreverently  called  them)  were  reduced  to  a  horrified 
silence  that  was  almost  hysterical. 

But  one  morning  Mrs.  Abbott  caught  Mrs.  Hunter  dig 
ging  in  her  private  vegetable  garden  behind  the  palace, 
and  wearing  a  garment  that  her  second  gardener's  wife 
would  have  scorned,  her  unblemished  face  beaming  under 
a  battered  straw  hat.  Both  women  had  the  humor  to 


82  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

laugh,  and  their  intimacy  dated  from  that  moment,  Mrs. 
Hunter  confessing  that  stuff  on  her  face  made  her  sick ; 
but  adding  that  she  adored  dress  and  thought  that  any 
rich  woman  was  a  fool  who  didn  't. 

After  that  there  was  a  compromise  on  both  sides.  Mrs. 
Hunter  lunched  or  dined  at  Bincona  in  her  simplest 
frocks  and  Mrs.  Abbott  wore  her  best  when  honoring  Mrs. 
Hunter  and  others  at  Burlingame.  She  even  went  so 
far  as  to  have  some  extremely  smart  silk  voiles  (the 
fashionable  material  of  the  moment)  and  linens  made, 
and  when  asked  to  a  wedding,  a  garden  party,  or  a 
great  function  given  to  some  visitor  of  distinction,  com 
plimented  the  occasion  to  the  limit  of  her  resources. 


in 

Mrs.  Hunter,  in  white  duck,  a  sailor  hat  perched  above 
her  angular  somewhat  masculine  face,  was  sitting  on  the 
Abbott  verandah  as  the  two  Englishmen  drove  up.  She 
waved  her  cigarette  and  cried  gayly  in  her  hearty  reso 
nant  voice: 

"Two  men!  What  luck!  And  in  time  for  lunch. 
I've  hardly  seen  a  man  since  the  first  day  of  the  fire. 
Leave  your  car  anywhere  and  come  in  out  of  the  sun. 
I'll  call  Maria,  and,  incidentally,  mention  whiskey  and 
soda." 

"The  whiskey  and  soda  is  all  right,"  said  Gwynne 
mopping  his  brow ;  Nature,  having  wreaked  her  worst  on 
California,  seemed  determined  to  atone  by  unseasonably 
brilliant  weather,  and  the  day  under  the  blazing  blue 
vault  was  very  hot. 

Mrs.  Abbott  appeared  in  a  few  moments,  smiling,  cool, 
in  immaculate  white,  the  collar  of  her  shirtwaist  high 
and  unwilted.  Her  weather-beaten  face  looked  years 
older  than  Mrs.  Hunter's,  who,  although  plain  by  com 
parison  with  the  once  beautiful  Maria  Groome,  had 
treated  her  clean  healthy  skin  with  marked  respect. 

But  as  the  butler  had  preceded  her  with  whiskey  and 
soda  and  ice,  Mrs.  Abbott  might  already  have  achieved 
the  mahogany  tints  of  her  mother  and  she  would  have 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  83 

been  regarded  as  enthusiastically  by  two  hot  and  dusty 
men. 

"Of  course  you  will  stay  to  luncheon, "  she  said  as 
naturally  as  she  had  said  it  these  many  years,  and  as 
two  hospitable  generations  had  said  it  on  that  verandah 
before  her.  She  turned  to  young  Gathbroke  with  a 
smile,  for  Mrs.  Hunter,  who  was  in  her  confidence,  had 
detained  her  for  a  moment  with  a  few  sharp  incisive 
words.  "I  have  a  very  bored  little  sister,  who  will  be 
glad  to  sit  next  to  a  young  man  once  more. ' ' 

And  although  Gathbroke  almost  frowned  at  this  fresh 
reminder  of  the  callow  years  of  the  girl  whose  sheer 
loveliness  had  haunted  his  imagination,  he  went  off  with 
a  not  disagreeable  titillation  of  the  nerves,  at  Mrs.  Ab 
bott's  suggestion,  to  find  her  in  the  park  and  bring  her 
back  to  luncheon  in  half  an  hour. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


1_J  E  was  light  of  step  and  made  no  sound  on  the  heavy 
*  •*•  turf ;  he  saw  her  several  minutes  before  she  was 
aware  of  his  presence  and  stood  staring  at  her,  feeling 
much  as  he  had  done  during  the  progress  of  the  earth 
quake. 

She  was  standing  under  one  of  the  great  oaks  whose 
lower  limbs  had  been  trimmed  so  evenly  some  seven  feet 
above  the  ground  that  they  made  a  compact  symmetrical 
roof  above  the  dark  head  of  the  girl,  who,  being  alone, 
had  abandoned  the  limp  curve  of  fashion  and  was  stand 
ing  very  erect,  drawn  up  to  her  full  five  feet  seven. 
Alexina  had  no  intention  of  being  afflicted  with  rounded 
shoulders  when  the  present  mode  had  passed. 

But  her  face  expressed  no  guile  as  she  stood  there  in 
her  simple  white  frock  with  a  bunch  of  periwinkles  in 
her  belt,  her  delicate  profile  turned  to  Gathbroke  as  she 
gazed  at  the  irregular  majesty  of  the  Coast  Range,  dark 
blue  under  a  pale  blue  haze.  He  had  retained  the  im- 


84  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

pression  of  starry  eyes  and  vivid  coloring  and  eager 
happy  youth,  a  body  of  perfect  slenderness  and  grace, 
whose  magnetism  was  not  that  of  youth  alone  but  per 
sonal  and  individual. 

Now  he  saw  that  although  her  fine  little  profile  was 
not  too  regular,  and  as  individual  as  her  magnetism,  the 
shape  of  her  head  was  classic.  It  was  probable  that  she 
was  not  unaware  of  the  fact,  for  its  perfect  lines  and 
curves  were  fully  revealed  by  the  severe  flatness  of  the 
dusky  thickly  planted  hair,  which  was  brushed  back  to 
the  nape  of  her  neck  and  then  drawn  up  a  few  inches 
and  flared  outward.  The  little  head  was  held  high  on 
the  long  white  stem  of  the  throat ;  and  the  pose,  with  the 
dropping  eyelids,  gave  her,  in  that  deep  shade,  the  illu 
sion  of  maturity.  Gathbroke  realized  that  he  saw  her 
for  the  moment  as  she  would  look  ten  years  hence.  Even 
the  full  curved  red  lips  were  closed  firmly  and  once  the 
nostrils  quivered  slightly. 

The  narrow  black  eyebrows  following  the  subtle  curve 
of  her  eyelids,  the  low  full  brow  with  its  waving  line  of 
soft  black  hair,  seemed  to  brood  over  the  lower  part  of 
the  face  with  its  still  indeterminate  curves,  over  the 
wholly  immature  figure  of  a  very  young  girl. 

Gathbroke  surrendered  then  and  there.  This  radia 
tion  of  mystery,  of  complexity,  this  secret  subtle  visit  of 
maturity  to  youth,  the  hovering  spirit  of  the  future 
woman,  was  unique  in  his  experience  and  went  straight 
to  his  head.  He  forgot  his  sister,  dismissed  the  thought 
of  Dwight  with  a  gesture  of  contempt.  He  might  be 
modest  and  rather  diffident  in  manner,  owing  to  racial 
shyness,  but  he  had  a  fine  sustaining  substructure  of 
sheer  masculine  arrogance. 


n 

As  he  walked  forward  swiftly  Alexina  turned ;  and  im 
mediately  was  the  young  thing  of  eighteen  and  of  the 
early  twentieth  century.  Her  spine  drooped  into  an  in 
dolent  curve,  her  soft  red  lips  fell  apart,  her  black-gray 
eyes  opened  wide  as  she  held  out  her  hand  to  the  young 
Englishman. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  85 

* '  How  nice !  I  never  really  expected  to  see  you  again. 
I  understood  Lady  Victoria  to  say  you  were  merely  pass 
ing  through. ' ' 

Alexina  had  not  cast  him  a  thought  since  the  night  of 
the  ball  but  she  was  hospitable  and  feminine. 

"I  was  detained. " 

She  noted  with  intense  curiosity  that  his  bright  color 
paled  and  his  sparkling  hazel  eyes  darkened  with  a  sud 
den  look  of  horror;  but  the  spasm  of  memory  passed 
quickly,  and  once  more  he  was  staring  at  her  with  frank 
capitulation. 

Alexina 's  head  went  up  a  trifle.  She  was  still  new  to 
conquest,  and  although  she  had  met  more  than  one  pair 
of  admiring  eyes  in  the  course  of  the  past  season,  and 
received  as  many  compliments  as  the  vainest  girl  could 
wish,  few  men  had  had  the  courage  to  storm  the  stern 
fortress  on  Ballinger  Hill,  or  to  sit  more  than  once  in  a 
drawing-room  so  darkly  reminiscent  of  funeral  ceremo 
nies  that  a  fellow's  nerves  began  to  jump  all  over  him. 

Nor  had  her  fancy  been  even  lightly  captured  until 
Mortimer  Dwight,  that  perfect  hero  of  maiden  dreams, 
had  swept  her  off  her  dancing  feet  on  the  most  memo 
rable  night  of  her  life. 

She  had  quite  made  up  her  mind  to  marry  him.  The 
indignant  silent  hostility  of  the  family  (even  Mrs.  Bal 
linger,  her  moment  of  weakness  passed,  having  been 
swung  to  the  horrified  Maria's  point  of  view)  had  been 
all  that  was  necessary  to  convince  the  young  Alexina 
that  fate  had  sent  her  the  complete  romance.  She  hoped 
the  opposition  would  drive  her  to  an  elopement;  little 
dreaming  of  the  horror  with  which  Mr.  Dwight  would 
greet  the  heterodox  alternative. 

Mrs.  Abbott  had  had  a  valid  excuse  for  not  asking  him 
down:  provisions  were  scarce,  and,  so  Tom  said,  he  was 
doing  useful  work  in  town.  But  Olive  Bascom,  whose 
country  home  was  in  San  Mateo,  had  invited  him  for  the 
next  week  end,  and  he  had  accepted.  Alexina  was  to  be 
one  of  the  small  house  party,  and  there  were  many  ro 
mantic  walks  behind  San  Mateo.  A  moon  was  also  due. 


86  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

in 

Still  Gathbroke  might  have  entered  the  race  with  an 
even  chance,  for  maidens  of  eighteen  are  merely  the  blind 
tools  of  Nature,  had  not  the  family  made  the  mistake  of 
displaying  too  warm  an  approval  of  the  eligible  young 
Englishman.  Mrs.  Groome,  Mrs.  Abbott,  Aunt  Clara, 
reenforced  even  by  the  more  worldly  Mrs.  Hunter,  who, 
however,  had  no  children  of  her  own,  treated  him 
throughout  the  luncheon  with  an  almost  intimate  cor 
diality  and  a  lively  personal  interest;  whereas,  if  Mrs. 
Abbott  had  been  driven  to  keep  her  word  and  invite 
Mortimer  Dwight  to  her  historic  board  she  would  have 
depressed  him  with  the  cool  pleasant  detachment  she 
reserved  for  those  whom  she  knew  slightly  and  cared  for 
not  at  all;  Mrs.  Groome,  automatically  gracious,  would 
have  retired  within  the  formidable  fortress  of  an  exte 
rior  built  in  the  still  more  exclusive  eighties ;  Aunt  Clara 
would  have  sat  petrified  with  horror  at  the  desecration ; 
and  Mrs.  Hunter,  free  from  the  obligations  of  hospitality, 
would  have  been  brusque,  frankly  supercilious,  made  him 
as  uncomfortable  as  possible. 

All  this  Alexina  angrily  resented,  not  knowing  that 
their  amiability  was  in  part  inspired  by  sympathy, 
Gwynne  having  told  them  the  story  of  his  cousin 's  tragic 
experience  j  although  they  did  in  truth  regard  him  as  a 
possibly  heaven-sent  solution  of  a  problem  that  was  caus 
ing  them  all,  even  Mrs.  Hunter,  acute  anxiety. 

Young  Gathbroke  was  handsomer  than  Dwight.  He 
was  younger,  and  his  circumstances  were  far  more  ro 
mantic,  if  romance  Alexina  must  have.  It  was  plain 
that  he  was  fascinated  by  the  dear  silly  child,  who,  in 
her  turn,  would  no  doubt  promptly  forget  the  ineligible 
Dwight  if  the  Englishman  proved  to  be  serious  and  paid 
her  persistent  court. 

Nevertheless  Gathbroke,  before  the  luncheon  was  half 
over,  felt  that  he  was  making  no  progress  with  Alexina. 
Subtly  it  was  conveyed  to  him  on  one  of  those  unseen 
currents  that  travel  directly  to  the  sensitive  mind,  that 
these  amiable  people  knew  his  story;  and,  no  doubt,  in 
all  its  harrowing  details.  Simultaneously  those  details 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  87 

flashed  into  his  own  consciousness  with  a  horrible  dis 
tinctness,  depressing  his  spirits  and  extinguishing  a  nat 
ural  gayety  and  light  chaff  that  had  come  back  for  a  mo 
ment. 

Moreover,  to  use  his  own  expression,  he  was  besottedly 
in  love,  and  knew  that  he  betrayed  himself  every  time 
his  eyes  met  those  of  the  girl,  who,  he  felt  with  bitter 
ness  and  alarm,  long  before  the  salad,  was  making  a 
desperate  attempt  to  entertain  a  very  dull  young  man. 

Once  or  twice  a  mocking  glance  flashed  through  those 
starry  ingenuous  orbs,  but  was  banished  by  the  simple 
art  of  elevating  the  wicked  iris  and  revealing  a  line  of 
saintly  white.  Alexina  was  quite  determined  to  add  a 
British  scalp  to  her  small  collection,  and  for  the  young 
man 's  possible  torment  she  cared  not  at  all.  With  young 
arrogance  she  rather  despised  him  for  his  surrender  be 
fore  battlej  or  at  all  events  for  hauling  down  his  flag 
publicly;  and  her  mind  traveled  with  feminine  satis 
faction  to  the  calm  smiling  dominance,  combined  with 
utter  devotion,  of  the  man  who  had  won  her  as  easily  as 
she  had  conquered  Richard  Gathbroke.  That  the  young 
Englishman's  nature  was  hot  and  tempestuous,  with 
depths  that  even  he  had  not  sounded,  and  her  ideal 
knight 's  more  effective  mien  but  the  expression  of  a  pos 
sibly  meager  and  somewhat  puritanical  nature;  that 
Dwight's  heart  was  a  well-trained  organ  which  would 
never  commit  an  indiscretion,  and  that  young  Gathbroke 
would  have  sold  the  world  for  her  if  she  had  been  a 
flower  girl,  or  the  downfall  of  her  fortunes  had  sent  her 
clerking,  she  was  far  too  inexperienced  to  guess;  and 
it  is  doubtful  if  the  knowledge  would  have  affected  her 
had  she  possessed  it.  She  was  in  the  obstinate  phase  of 
first  youth,  common  enough  in  girls  of  her  sheltered 
class,  where  the  opportunities  to  study  men  and  their 
behavior  are  few.  Having  persuaded  herself  that  she 
was  far  more  romantic  than  she  really  was,  and  that 
there  would  be  no  possible  happiness  or  indeed  interest 
in  life  after  youth,  she  had  conceived  as  her  ideal  mate 
the  dominant  male,  the  complete  master,  and  easily  per 
suaded  herself  that  she  had  found  him  in  Mortimer 
Dwight.  ...  If  she  married  Gathbroke  he  would  be  her 


88  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

slave  (so  little  did  she  know  him).    D wight  would  be  her 
master.     (So  little  did  she  know  him,  or  herself.) 


CHAPTER  XIV 


A  FTER  luncheon,  grinning  amiably  when  Mrs.  Ab- 
**  bott  hinted  that  Englishmen  liked  to  be  out  of 
doors,  she  led  Gathbroke  to  the  confines  of  the  park, 
where  they  sat  down  under  one  of  the  oaks  that  reminded 
him  of  England;  for  which  he  was  in  truth  desperately 
homesick,  and  never  more  so  than  at  this  moment. 

Everything  combined  to  make  him  realize  uneasily  his 
youth.  In  England  a  man  of  twenty-three  was  a  man- 
of-the-world  if  he  had  had  the  proper  opportunities ;  but 
this  girl  who  had  infatuated  him,  and  even  the  far  more 
sympathetic  Miss  Dwight,  made  him  feel  that  he  was  a 
mere  boy;  and  so  had  this  entire  family,  however  un 
wittingly. 

n 

He  spoke  of  Miss  Dwight  suddenly,  for  Alexina,  who 
had  been  duly  enlightened  while  the  men  were  smoking 
with  Tom,  had  tactfully  conveyed  her  sympathy,  her  eyes 
almost  round  with  fascinated  horror  and  curiosity. 

He  set  his  teeth  and  gave  a  rapid  but  graphic  account 
of  the  whole  dreadful  episode,  willing  to  interest  her  at 
any  price;  and  Alexina,  sitting  opposite  on  the  ground, 
her  long  spine  curved,  her  long  arms  embracing  her 
knees,  listened  with  a  breathless  interest,  spurring  him 
to  potent  words,  even  to  stressing  of  detail. 

"My  goodness  gracious  me!"  she  ejaculated  when  he 
paused.  "I  should  have  gone  raving  mad.  You  are  a 
perfect  wonder.  I  never  heard  of  anything  so  gor — 
perfectly  thrilling.  And  that  girl,  what  did  you  say  her 
name  was?" 

Gathbroke,  who  had  purposely  withheld  it,  said  ex 
plosively  : 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  89 

"Dwight." 

"Dwight?" 

"I  think  she  is  a  sister  of  a  friend  of  yours."  And 
he  was  made  as  miserable  as  he  could  wish  by  a  crimson 
tide  that  swept  straight  from  her  heart  pump  up  to  her 
widow's  peak. 

' '  Dwight  ?  Sister  ?  I  didn  't  know  he  had  one.  I  saw 
him  several  times  during  the  fire  and  he  didn't  mention 
her." 

*  '  I  suspect  he  was  too  absorbed. ' '  Gathbroke  muttered 
the  words,  but  man's  instinct  of  loyalty  to  his  own  sex 
is  strong.  ' '  A  city  doesn  't  burn  every  day,  you  know. ' ' 

11  Still  .  .  .  what  is  she  like?    Like  him*?" 

"I  do  not  remember  him  at  all.  .  .  .  She  ?  Oh,  she  has 
a  tremendous  amount  of  dark  hair  that  looks  as  if  falling 
off  the  top  of  her  head  and  down  her  face.  Uncommonly 

heavy  eyebrows,  and  very  light  gray Ah,  I  have  it ! 

I  have  been  groping  for  the  word  ever  since — sinister 
eyes.  .  .  .  That  is  the  effect  in  that  dark  face.  She  has 
a  curious  character,  I  should  think.  Not  very  frank. 
She — well,  she  rather  struck  me  as  having  been  born  for 
drama ;  tragic  drama,  I  am  afraid. ' ' 

* '  Not  a  bit  like  her  brother.     How  old  is  she  ? ' ' 

* t  Twenty-two,  she  told  me. ' ' 

"What — what  does  she  do?  They  are  not  a  bit  well 
off." 

He  hesitated  a  moment.  ' 1  Well — as  I  recall  it,  she  is 
studying  something  or  other  at  the  University  of  Cali 
fornia." 

"And  of  course  she  boards  down  there  with  her 
brother,  who  takes  care  of  her  while  she  is  studying  to 
be  a  teacher  or  something. ' '  Alexina  having  arranged  it 
to  her  satisfaction  dismissed  the  subject.  She  had  no 
mind  to  betray  herself  to  this  good-looking  young  Eng 
lishman  who  had  been  sent  to  her  providentially  on  a 
very  dull  day.  He  would,  no  doubt,  have  been  franti 
cally  interesting  if  he  had  not  been  so  idiotic  as  to  fall 
head  over  ears  the  first  shot. 

Still  .  .  .  Alexina  examined  him  covertly  as  he  trans 
ferred  his  gaze  for  a  moment  to  the  mountains  across  the 
distant  bay,  swimming  now  in  a  pale  blue  mist  with  a 


90  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

wide  banner  of  pale  pink  above  them.  ...  If  she  had 
met  him  first,  or  had  never  met  the  other  at  all  ...  who 
knew? 

m 

Alexina,  for  all  her  passion  for  romance,  had  a  re 
markably  level  head.  She  was  quite  aware  that  there 
had  been  a  certain  amount  of  deliberation  in  her  own 
headlong  plunge,  convinced  as  she  was  that  high  romance 
belonged  to  youth  alone,  and  fearful  lest  it  pass  her  by ; 
aware  also  that  a  part  of  Dwight's  halo,  aside  from  his 
looks  and  manners  and  chivalrous  charm,  consisted  in 
his  being  a  martyr  to  an  unjust  fate,  and,  as  such,  under 
the  ban  of  her  august  family.  It  was  all  quite  too  per 
fect.  .  .  .  But  if  Gathbroke  had  come  first  his  qualifica 
tions  might  have  proved  quite  as  puissant,  and  no  doubt 
Tom  Abbott,  who  retained  his  school-history  hatred  of 
the  entire  English  race,  would  have  provided  the  oppo 
sition  and  perhaps  influenced  the  family. 

She  swept  her  intoxicating  lashes  along  the  faint  bloom 
high  on  her  olive  cheeks  and  then  raised  her  eyes  sud 
denly  to  the  tormented  ones  opposite.  She  also  smiled 
softly,  alluringly,  as  little  fascinating  wretches  will  who 
know  nothing  of  the  passions  of  men. 

' '  I  think  you  should  follow  Mr.  Gwynne  's  example  and 
stay  here  with  us."  He  thought  of  silver  chimes  and 
contrasted  her  voice  with  Gora  Dwight's  angry  con 
tralto  :  he  always  thought  of  Gora  in  phrases.  '  *  So  many 
Englishmen  live  out  here  and  adore  it. ' ' 

"I'm  perfectly  satisfied  with  my  own  country,  thank 
you/'  ^ 

Alexina,  who  was  feeling  intensely  American  at  the 
moment,  curled  her  lip.  "Oh,  of  course.  We  have  had 
plenty  of  those,  too.  Scarcely  any  of  them  becomes  nat 
uralized.  Just  use  and  enjoy  the  country  and  give  as 
little  in  return  as  possible." 

"Really?  I  fancy  they  must  give  rather  a  lot  in  re 
turn  or  they  would  hardly  be  tolerated.  No  native  has 
worked  harder  than  Elton  these  last  days.  I  understand 
most  of  them  are  in  business  or  ranching  and  have  mar 
ried  California  girls." 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  91 

' '  Oh,  they  have  redeeming  points. ' '  And  then  having 
satisfied  her  curiosity  as  to  how  hazel  eyes  looked  when 
angry  she  gave  him  a  dazzling  smile.  "We  love  them 
like  brothers,  and  that  is  a  proof  that  we  are  not  snob 
bish,  for  most  of  them  are  not  of  your  or  Mr.  Gwynne's 
class — just  middle-class  business  people  at  home." 

* '  Well,  you  are  a  business  nation,  so  why  not  ?  I  have 
met  hardly  any  but  business  men  out  here  and  I  feel 
quite  at  home  with  them.  My  mother's  family  are  in 
trade  and  I  enjoy  myself  immensely  when  I  visit  them. ' ' 

"Oh!"  His  halo  slipped.  .  .  .  Still,  what  did  it  mat 
ter?  "I  suppose  you  told  me  that  to  let  me  know  you 
didn't  need  to  come  out  here  in  search  of  an  heiress. 
But  many  of  our  most  charming  girls  are  not.  Just 
now  it  seems  to  me  that  more  young  men  in  California 
have  money  than  girls  .  .  .  but  they  are  so  uninterest 
ing." 

She  looked  pathetic,  her  mouth  drooped;  then  she 
smiled  at  him  confidingly. 

He  knew  quite  as  well  as  if  he  had  not  been  hard  hit 
that  she  was  flirting  with  him,  but  as  long  as  she  gave 
him  his  chance  to  win  her  she  might  do  her  transparent 
little  best  to  make  a  fool  of  him. 

1 '  Have  you  ever  been  in  love  ? ' '  asked  Alexina  softly. 

"Oh,  about  half-way  several  times,  but  always  drew 
back  in  time  .  .  .  knew  it  wasn't  the  real  thing.  .  .  . 
Youth  fools  itself,  you  know,  for  the  sake  of  the  sensa 
tion—or  the  race.  Have  you  ? ' ' 

"Oh "  Alexina  lifted  her  thin  flexible  shoulders 

airily  and  this  time  her  color  did  not  flow.  ' '  How  is  one 
to  tell  ...  a  girl  in  her  first  season  .  .  .  when  all  men 
look  so  much  alike?  It  is  fun  to  flirt  with  them,  when 
you  have  been  shut  up  in  boarding-school  and  hardly  had 
a  glimpse  of  life  even  in  vacation.  My  New  York  rela 
tives  are  terribly  old-fashioned.  It's  great  fun  to  give 
one  man  all  the  dances  and  watch  the  dado  of  dowagers 
look  disapproving."  And  once  more  she  gave  him  the 
quick  smile  of  understanding  that  springs  so  sponta 
neously  between  youth  and  youth. 

"Well  .  .  .  you  might  have  given  all  those  dances  to 
me  the  other  night,  instead  of  to  that  fellow  Dwight. ' ' 


92  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

' '  Oh,  but  you  see,  I  had  already  promised  them  to  him. 
Lady  Victoria  always  comes  so  late. ' ' 

' '  That 's  true  enough. ' '    His  spirits  rose  a  trifle. 

"When  do  you  go — back  to  England,  I  mean?  Not 
for  a  good  long  time,  I  hope.  We  have  awfully  good 
times  down  here.  Janet  Maynard  and  Olive  Bascom  live 
at  San  Mateo  in  the  summer,  and  Aileen  Lawton  at  Bur- 
lingame.  They  are  my  chums  and  we'd  give  you  a  rip 
ping  time.  We'd  like  to  have  you  take  away  the  pleas- 
antest  possible  memory  of  California  instead  of  such  a 
terrible  one.  I  don 't  mean  anything  very  gay,  of  course. 
You  mustn  't  think  I  'm  heartless. ' '  And  she  showed  the 
lower  pearl  of  her  eyes  and  looked  like  a  madonna. 

"I'm  afraid  I  must  go  soon.  I've  had  an  extension 
of  leave  already,  and  Hofer  told  me  just  before  we  left 
to-day  that  he  thought  he  could  let  me  have  his  private 
car  inside  of  a  week.  They've  been  using  it." 


IV 

There  was  not  a  dwelling  in  sight.  The  quiet  of  that 
old  park  with  its  brooding  oaks  was  primeval.  Behind 
her  was  the  pink  and  blue  glory  of  sky  and  mountain. 
Her  eyes  were  like  stars. 

He  burst  out  boyishly:  "If  I  only  had  more  time! 
If  only  I  could  have  met  you  even  when  I  first  came  to 
San  Francisco  .  .  .  before  .  .  .  before  .  .  .  I'd — I'd  like 
to  marry  you.  It's  fearfully  soon  to  say  such  a  thing. 
I  feel  like  a  fool.  But  I'm  not  the  first  man  to  fall 
madly  in  love  at  first  sight  .  .  .  and  you  .  .  .  you.  .  .  . 
If  I  tell  you  now  instead  of  waiting  it's  because  there's 
so  little  time  Would  you  ...  do  you  think  you  could 
marry  me?" 

"Oh!  Ah!  (She  almost  said  Ow.)  After  all  it  was 
her  first  proposal.  She  was  thrilled  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  she  was  in  love  with  another  man,  for  she  felt  close 
to  something  elemental,  hazily  understood  .  .  .  some 
thing  in  her  own  unsounded  depths  rushed  to  meet  it. 
^  But  he  was  too  young,  and  too  ' '  easy, ' '  and  she  didn  't 
like  his  gray  flannel  shirt ;  which,  laundry  being  out  of 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  93 

the  question,  he  had  bought  in  Fillmore  Street  almost 
opposite  the  undertaker's. 

'  *  Suppose  we  correspond  for  a  year  ?  That  is,  if  you 
must  really  go  so  soon/' 

* '  I  must.     I  want  you  to  go  with  me. ' r 

His  eyes  had  turned  almost  black  and  he  had  set  his 
jaw  in  a  way  she  didn't  like  at  all.  In  nerving  himself 
to  go  through  the  ordeal  he  had  worked  up  his  ferment 
ing  mind  into  a  positively  brutal  mood. 

1 l  Oh — mercy !  I  couldn  't  do  that.  My  people  are  the 
most  conventional  in  the  world. ' ' 

The  situation  was  getting  beyond  her.  She  had  not 
intended  to  make  him  propose  for  at  least  a  week  and 
then  he  would  have  been  abject  and  she  majestic.  She 
sprang  to  her  feet  with  a  swift  sidewise  movement  that 
made  her  limp  young  body  melt  into  a  series  of  curves ; 
and,  standing  at  bay  as  it  were,  looked  at  him  with  a 
little  frown. 

He  rose  as  quickly  and  she  liked  the  set  of  his  jaw 
bones  less  and  less. 

' '  Are  you  refusing  me  outright  ? "  he  demanded. ' '  That 
would  be  only  fair,  you  know,  if  I  have  no  chance. ' ' 

"Well  ...  I  think  so.     That  is " 

* '  Do  you  love  another  man  ? ' ' 

Coquetry  flashed  back.  Nevertheless,  she  told  the  ex 
act  truth  little  as  she  suspected  it. 

'  '  I  love  myself,  and  youth,  and  life,  and  liberty.  What 
is  a  man  in  comparison  with  all  that?" 

1 1  This. ' '  And  before  she  could  make  another  leap  he 
had  her  in  his  arms ;  and  under  the  fire  of  his  lips  and 
eyes  she  lay  inert,  intoxicated,  her  first  flash  of  young 
passion  completely  responsive  to  his. 

But  only  for  a  moment. 

She  wrenched  herself  away,  her  face  livid,  her  eyes 
black  with  fury.  She  beat  his  chest  with  her  fists. 

"  You !  You !  How  I  hate  you !  To  think  I  should  have 
given  that  to  you  ...  to  think  that  another  man  should 
have  been  the  first  to  kiss  me  ...  I'm  in  love  with  an 
other  man,  I  tell  you.  Why  don 't  you  go  ?  I  hate  my 
self  and  I  never  want  to  lay  eyes  on  you  again.  Go! 
Go!  Go!" 


94  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  XV 


TOURING-  the  retreat  from  Mons  and  again  in  those 
"•^  black  days  of  March,  nineteen-eighteen,  Gath- 
broke's  tormented  mind  snapped  from  the  present  and 
flashed  on  its  screen  so  startling  a  resurrection  of  him 
self  during  those  last  dreadful  days  in  San  Francisco 
that  for  the  moment  he  was  unconscious  of  the  world 
crashing  about  him. 

He  saw  himself  in  long  days  and  nights  of  anguish 
and  despair,  of  embittered  love  and  baffled  passion :  youth 
enjoying  one  of  its  divine  prerogatives  and  the  fullness 
thereof ! 

Pacing  the  floor  of  his  room  on  Russian  Hill,  tramp 
ing  over  the  mountains  across  the  Bay,  doggedly  await 
ing  that  sole  alleviation  of  mental  suffering  in  its  early 
stages,  a  change  of  scene. 

Finally  the  Hofer  car  was  placed  at  his  disposal  and 
he  started  on  his  four  days'  journey  to  New  York;  and 
this  brief  chapter,  that  his  friends  thought  so  gruesome, 
was  the  least  of  his  afflictions.  The  memory  of  his 
twenty-four  hours  or  more  of  close  physical  association 
with  his  sister's  corpse  made  any  subsequent  adventure 
with  the  dead  seem  tame.  And  at  least  he  was  leaving 
behind  him  a  State  which  seemed  to  have  magnetized 
him  across  six  thousand  miles  to  experience  the  horror 
and  misery  she  had  in  pickle  for  him.  He  reveled  in 
the  audible  rush  of  the  train  that  was  carrying  him  far 
ther  every  moment  from  the  girl  who  had  cut  down  into 
the  core  of  his  heart  and  left  her  indelible  image  on  a 
remarkably  good  memory. 


n 

He  had  asked  himself  one  day — it  was  his  last  in  Cali 
fornia  and  he  had  taken  his  courage  in  his  teeth  and 
was  en  his  way  to  call  on  Gora  Dwight  at  last,  picking 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  95 

his  steps  through  the  still  smoking  ruins  down  to  Van 
Ness  Avenue — whether  it  would  be  possible  for  any  man 
to  suffer  twice  in  a  lifetime  as  he  had  suffered  since  that 
hideous  moment  at  Rincona,  coming  as  it  did  on  top  of 
an  uncommon  and  terrible  experience  that  had  racked 
his  nerves  and  soul  as  it  might  not  have  done  had  he 
been  seasoned  by  war  or  even  a  few  years  older.  At  all 
events  it  had  left  him  with  no  reserves  even  in  his  pride 
to  fight  his  failure  and  his  loss. 

In  that  shrieking  hell  of  August  twenty-sixth,  or  again 
when  lying  abandoned  and  gassed  in  a  way-side  hut  dur 
ing  that  ominous  retreat  of  the  Fifth  Army,  when  he  had 
a  sudden  close  vision  of  himself,  trousers  tucked  into  a 
pair  of  Gwynne  's  hunting  boots,  swearing  now  and  again 
as  he  stepped  on  a  hot  brick ;  and  heard  his  groping  ego 
whisper  the  question  through  his  prostrate  mind,  he  was 
tempted  to  answer  aloud,  to  shout  "No"  above  the 
shrieking  of  shells  and  the  groans  of  men  fallen  about 
him. 

He  might  no  longer  love  Alexina  Groome  after  twelve 
or  even  eight  years  of  complete  severance;  and,  indeed, 
save  in  flashing  moments  like  these  he  had  seldom  thought 
of  her  after  the  first  two  or  three  years ;  but  at  least  she 
had  taken  the  edge  from  his  power  to  suffer. 

He  had  lost  his  mother  soon  after  his  return  with  the 
body  of  her  youngest  child,  his  father  had  died  three 
years  later,  and  he  had  accepted  these  griefs  with  the 
composure  of  maturity.  Although  he  had  had  some 
agreeable  adventures  (not  that  he  had  had  much  time 
for  either  women  or  society)  he  had  taken  devilish  good 
care  not  to  get  in  too  deep — even  if  he  still  possessed 
the  power  to  love  at  all,  which  he  doubted. 

He  remembered  also,  what  he  had  almost  forgotten, 
that  during  that  walk  it  had  come  to  him  with  the  sharp 
ness  of  surprise  that  the  image  of  the  girl  who  clung  to 
his  mind  with  the  tentacles  of  a  devil-fish,  was  as  he  had 
seen  her  standing  under  the  oak  tree  while  unaware  of 
his  presence:  older,  a  more  dignified  and  thoughtful 
figure,  a  woman  old  enough  to  be  his  mate  in  something 
more  than  youthful  passion,  the  ideal  woman  of  vague 
sweet  dreams ;  not  as  the  thoughtless  little  coquette  who 


96  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

had  tempted  him  to  ruin  his  chances  by  acting  like  a 
cave  brute. 

Given  a  fortnight  longer,  during  which  he  remained 
master  of  himself  instead  of  a  young  fool  with  a  smashed 
temperament,  and  the  unfledged  woman  in  her,  whose 
subtle  projection  he  had  witnessed  during  that  moment 
of  his  capitulation,  would  have  recognized  him  as  her 
mate ;  as  for  the  moment  she  had  in  his  arms. 

Not  the  least  of  his  ordeals  during  those  last  days 
was  the  inevitable  call  on  Gora  Dwight.  He  felt  like 
a  cad,  after  what  she  had  been  to  him  at  the  end  of  an 
appalling  experience,  to  have  let  nearly  three  weeks  go 
by  with  no  apparent  recognition  of  her  existence.  But 
he  had  been  unable  to  find  a  messenger,  there  was  no 
post ;  and  then,  after  his  ill-starred  visit  to  Kincona,  he 
had  forgotten  her  until  his  final  visit  to  the  undertaker ; 
when  she  had  seemed  to  stand,  an  indignant  and  re 
proachful  figure,  at  the  head  of  the  casket. 


ra 

He  had  a  note  in  his  pocket  and  hoped  she  would  be 
out.     But  she  opened  the  door  herself,  and  her  dark 
face,  thinner  than  he  recalled  it,  flushed  and  then  turned 
pale.     But  she  said  calmly  as  she  extended  her  hand : 
' '  Come  in.     I  wondered  what  had  become  of  you. ' ' 
"I'm  sorry.    But — perhaps — you  can  understand — it 
was  not  easy  for  me  to  come  here ! ' ' 
"Of  course.     Come  up  to  my  diggings. " 
He  followed  her  up  to  the  attic  studio,  where  as  be 
fore  he  took  the  easy  chair  and  accepted  one  of  her 
cigarettes;  which  he  professed  to  be  grateful  for  as  his 
were  exhausted  and  every  decent  brand  in  town  had 
gone  up  in  smoke. 

Gora  was  deeply  disappointed  that  she  had  received  no 
warning  of  his  call,  for  she  possessed  an  extremely  be 
coming  and  richly  embroidered  silk  Chinese  costume,  as 
red  as  the  flames  that  had  devoured  Chinatown  a  few 
days  after  she  had  bought  it  at  a  bankrupt  sale.  She 
had  put  it  on  every  afternoon  for  a  week,  hoping  and 
expecting  that  he  would  call;  and  now  that  she  had  on 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  97 

her  second-best  tailored  suit,  and  a  darned  if  immacu 
late  shirtwaist,  he  had  chosen  to  turn  up!  ...  But  at 
least  the  lapels  of  the  jacket  had  recently  been  faced  with 
red,  and  it  curved  closely  over  her  beautiful  bust.  More 
over,  she  had  just  finished  rearranging  the  masses  of  her 
rich  brown  hair  when  the  bell  rang. 

And  she  had  him  for  a  time,  perhaps  for  an  hour! 
She  set  out  the  tea  things  as  an  intimation  of  the  refresh 
ment  ne  would  get  at  the  proper  time.  .  .  . 

She  too  had  suffered  during  this  past  interminable 
fortnight,  but  Gora  was  far  more  mature  than  the  young 
Englishman,  upon  whom  life  until  the  last  few  weeks 
had  smiled  so  persistently.  She  was  too  complex,  she 
had  suffered  in  too  many  ways,  from  too  many  causes, 
not  all  of  them  elevating,  to  be  capable  upon  so  short  a 
notice,  even  after  a  night  of  unique  companionship,  of 
such  whole-souled  agony  and  despair.  In  her  imagina 
tion,  her  sense  of  drama,  her  vanity,  in  the  fading  of 
vague  dazzling  hopes  of  a  future  to  which  he  held  the 
key,  and  perhaps  a  little  in  her  stormy  heart,  she  had 
felt  a  degree  of  harsh  disappointment,  but  she  had  al 
ready  half-recovered ;  and  as  she  sat  looking  at  his  rav 
aged  face  she  wondered  that  the  death  of  a  sister,  no 
matter  how  harrowing  the  conditions,  could  make  such 
a  wreck  of  any  man. 

He  told  her  of  his  difficulties  in  finding  some  one  to 
remove  the  body  from  the  vault  to  the  undertaker's,  of 
the  delay  in  obtaining  a  private  car,  gave  her  some  idea 
of  his  disorganized  life  since  they  had  parted,  but  made 
no  mention  of  Alexina  Groome  or  Rincona.  Then  he 
politely  asked  her  if  she  had  any  new  plans  for  the  fu 
ture.  Nobody  seemed  to  look  forward  to  the  same  old 
life. 

Gora  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  a  movement  expres 
sive  of  irritation.  "My  brother,  who  is  engaged  to 
Alexina  Groome,  insists  that  I  give  up  this  lodging 
house. ' ' 

"Oh,  so  they  are  engaged?"  Gathbroke  lit  another 
cigarette,  and  his  hand  did  not  tremble;  he  felt  as  if 
his  nerves  had  been  immersed  in  ice  water  and  frozen. 

"Yes — marvelously.    The   family,    as   might   be   ex- 


98  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

pected,  is  furious.  But  the  girl  is  mad  about  him  and 
of  age.  She  is  just  a  foolish  child  and  should  be  locked 
up.  My  brother  is  not  in  the  least  what  she  imagines 
him.  She  wrote  me  a  letter.  Good  heaven !  One  would 
think  she  had  captured  the  prince  of  a  fairy  tale,  or  the 
hero  of  an  old  romantic  novel.  There  should  be  a  law 
prohibiting  girls  from  marrying  before  they  are  twenty- 
two  at  least.  .  .  .  However,  the  thing  is  done.  And  my 
brother  is  terribly  afraid  they'll  find  out  that  I  keep  a 
lodging  house.  He's  given  them  to  understand  we  both 
board  here.  They  are  prime  snobs  and  so  is  he.  I  never 
dreamed  it  was  in  him  until  he  began  to  go  about  in 
society,  but  then  you  never  know  what  is  in  anybody. 
Otherwise,  he  is  harmless  enough,  and  a  good  industrious 
boy,  but  he'll  never  make  the  money  to  keep  up  with 
that  set,  and  she  won't  have  much.  It's  a  stupid  affair 
all  round  .  .  . 

"I've  refused  to  budge  until  he  finds  me  a  job.  He 
certainly  cannot  support  me,  even  if  I  were  willing  to  be 
supported  by  any  one.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned  they 
could  know  I  kept  a  lodging  house  and  welcome.  It  is 
honest  and  it  gives  me  a  good  living ;  and,  what  I  value 
more,  many  hours  of  freedom.  But  Mortimer  is  not  only 
positively  terrified  they'll  find  it  out,  but  he  is  as  ob 
stinate  over  it  as — well,  as  that  kind  of  man  always  is. 
He's  looking  about,  and  I  fancy  my  fate  is  stenography 
or  bookkeeping:  I  took  a  course  at  a  business  college 
shortly  before  my  mother  died.  I  don't  know  that  he'd 
like  that  much  better;  lie  hinted  that  I  might  be  a 
librarian  in  a  small  town.  But  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  fall 
for  that." 

Gathbroke  smiled.  "Not  that.  You  don't  belong  to 
the  country  town.  But  I  fancy  you'll  have  to  give  up 
the  lodging  house.  Elton  Gwynne  took  me  down  the 
Peninsula  one  day,  and — well — I  don't  fancy  they 
would  stand  for  it.  Aristocracies  are  aristocracies  the 
world  over.  They  may  talk  democracy,  and  really  mod 
ify  themselves  a  bit,  but  there  are  certain  things  they'd 
choke  on  if  they  tried  to  swallow  them,  and  they  won't 
even  try.  Better  give  it  up  before  they  find  it  out  and 
tackle  you.  I  don't  fancy  you'd  stand  for  that.  It 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  99 

would  be  devilish  disagreeable.  You  Ve  got  to  know  and 
be  more  or  less  intimate  with,  them  all " 

"I'll  not  be  patronized  by  them.  I  don't  know  that 
I'll  go  near  them.  For  years  I've  resented  that  I  was 
not  one  of  them,  but  I  don't  fancy  tagging  in  after  my 
brother,  treated  with  pleasant  courteous  resignation,  in 
vited  once  a  year  to  a  family  dinner,  and  quite  forgotten 
on  smart  occasions. ' ' 

* '  Quite  so.  I  like  your  spunk.  Have  you  thought  of 
being  a  nurse  ?  All  work  is  hard  and  I  should  think  that 
would  be  interesting.  Must  meet  a  jolly  lot  of  people. 
You  should  see  the  becoming  uniforms  the  London 
nurses  wear.  Prettiest  women  on  the  street,  by  Jove. ' ' 

Her  heart  sank  but  she  replied  evenly:  ''Not  a  bad 
idea.  I've  quite  enough  saved  to  take  the  course  com 
fortably " 

He  had  a  flash  of  memory.  ' '  And  that  would  give  you 
time  to  win  your  reputation  as  a  writer.  Then  the  nurs 
ing  would  be  merely  one  more  resource/' 

"It  was  nice  of  you  to  remember  that.  Ill  consider 
the  nursing  proposition,  and  when  you  have  your  next 
war  I  '11  go  over  and  nurse  you.  That  part  of  it — a  war 
nurse — would  be  mighty  interesting." 

The  words  were  spoken  idly,  merely  to  avert  a  pause, 
and  forgotten  as  soon  as  uttered.  But  as  a  matter  of 
fact  the  next  time  they  met  was  when  he  looked  up  from 
his  cot  in  the  hospital  after  he  had  been  retrieved  from 
the  hut  by  two  of  his  devoted  Tommies,  and  saw  the  odd 
pale  eyes  of  Gora  Dwight  close  above  his  own. 


BOOK  II 


CHAPTER  I 


closed  the  door  of  Mrs.  Groome's  room  as  the 
clock  struck  two,  the  old  Ballinger  clock  that  had 
seemed  to  toll  the  hours  on  a  deep  note  of  solemn  ac 
quiescence  for  the  past  six  weeks. 

She  crossed  the  hall  and  entered  Alexina 's  room  with 
out  knocking.  Mortimer,  during  the  past  fortnight,  had 
moved  from  the  room  adjoining  his  wife's  to  one  at. the 
back  of  the  house,  lest  it  should  be  necessary  to  call 
Alexina  in  the  night.  He  worked  very  hard. 

Alexina  still  occupied  her  old  room  in  the  front  of 
the  house  where  the  creaking  eucalyptus  trees  sometimes 
brushed  the  window  pane.  It  had  been  refurnished  and 
fitted  in  various  elusive  shades  of  pink  by  Mrs.  Abbott 
as  her  wedding  present.  There  was  a  dim  point  of  light 
above  a  gas  jet  and  Gora  saw  that  Alexina  was  asleep. 
The  pillows  were  on  the  floor.  She  was  lying  flat,  her 
arms  thrown  out,  the  dusky  fine  mass  of  her  hair  spread 
over  the  low  head  board.  Her  clear  olive  cheeks  were 
pale  with  sleep  and  her  eyelashes  looked  like  two  little 
black  clouds. 

Gora  watched  her  for  a  moment.  Why  awaken  the 
poor  child?  She  was  sleeping  as  peacefully  as  if  that 
tall  old  clock  of  her  forefathers  had  not  tolled  out  the  last 
of  another  generation  of  Ballingers.  Her  soft  red  lips 
were  half  parted. 

It  was  now  three  years  since  her  marriage  but  she 
still  looked  like  a  very  young  girl.  Gora  always  felt 
vaguely  sorry  for  her  although  she  seemed  happy  enough. 
At  all  events  it  was  quite  obvious  that  she  did  little  think 
ing  except  when  she  remembered  to  wish  for  a  baby. 

Gora  wore  the  white  uniform  of  a  nurse,  and  a  little 
cap  with  wings  on  the  coronet  of  her  heavy  hair.  It  was 
a  becoming  costume  and  made  her  eyes  in  their  dark 
setting  look  less  pale  and  cold. 

103 


104          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

She  had  a  secret  contempt  for  most  of  the  old  conven 
tions  but  she  had  given  her  word  to  awaken  Alexina  the 
moment  any  change  occurred,  and  she  reluctantly  shook 
her  sister-in-law's  shoulder. 


Alexina  sprang  out  of  bed  on  the  instant. 

' *  Mother  ? ' '  she  cried.    ' '  Is  she  worse  ? ' ' 

Gora  nodded. 

Alexina  made  a  dart  for  the  door,  but  Gora  threw  a 
strong  arm  about  her.  Those  arms  had  held  more  than 
one  violent  man  in  his  bed.  "Better  wait/'  she  said 
softly. 

Alexina 's  body  grew  rigid  as  she  slowly  drew  back  on 
Gora's  arm  and  stared  up  at  her.  In  a  moment  she 
asked  in  a  hard  steady  voice:  "Is  my  mother  dead?" 

"Yes.  It  was  very  sudden.  I  had  no  time  to  tele 
phone  for  the  doctor ;  to  call  you.  She  was  sleeping.  I 
was  sitting  beside  her.  Suddenly  I  knew  that  she  had 
stopped  breathing " 

"Would  you  mind  telephoning  to  Maria  and  Sally? 
Maria  will  never  forgive  herself — but  mother  seemed  so 
much  better " 

"I  will  telephone  at  once.    Shall  I  call  Mortimer?" 

1 '  No.    Why  disturb  him  ?  ' ' 

Gora,  watching  Alexina,  saw  a  curious  remoteness  en 
ter  the  depths  of  her  eyes,  and  her  own  narrowed  with 
something  of  her  old  angry  resentment.  In  this  hour  of 
profound  sorrow,  when  the  human  heart  is  quite  honest, 
Alexina,  however  her  conscious  mind  might  be  averted 
from  the  fact,  regarded  Mortimer  Dwight  as  an  out 
sider,  an  agreeable  alien  who  had  no  permanent  place  in 
the  immense  permanency  of  the  Ballinger-Groomes.  She 
wanted  only  her  own  family,  her  own  inherent  sort. 
Sally  had  hastened  to  California  as  soon  as  her  mother's 
illness  had  been  pronounced  dangerous,  and  had  stayed 
in  the  house  until  a  week  ago  when  she  had  been  ordered 
by  the  doctor  to  Santa  Barbara  to  get  rid  of  a  heavy 
cold  on  her  chest.  She  had  telegraphed  the  day  before 
that  she  was  threatened  with  pneumonia,  and  Maria,  as- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          105 

sured  that  her  mother  was  in  no  immediate  danger,  had 
gone  down  to  spend  two  days  with  her. 

Possibly  Alexina  caught  a  flash  from  the  mind  of  this 
strange  and  interesting  sister-in-law,  for  she  added 
hastily : 

''You  know  how  hard  Mortimer  works,  poor  dear. 
And  I  do  not  feel  in  the  least  like  crying.  I  shall  write 
telegrams  to  Ballinger  and  Geary:  my  brothers,  you 
know."  (Gora  ground  her  teeth.)  ''It  was  too  sad 
they  could  not  get  here,  but  Ballinger  is  in  South  Amer 
ica  and  Geary  on  a  diet.  I  must  also  write  a  cablegram 
to  an  old  friend  of  mine  who  has  married  a  Frenchman, 
Olive  de  Morsigny.  She  was  always  so  fond  of  mother. 
Would  you  also  mind  telephoning  to  Eincona  about 
seven  ?  ' ' 

"I'll  do  all  the  telephoning.  Go  back  to  bed  as  soon 
as  possible.  It  is  only  a  little  after  two."  As  Gora 
turned  to  leave  the  room  Alexina  put  her  hand  on  her 
arm  and  summoned  a  faint  sweet  smile. 

' '  I  cannot  tell  you  how  grateful  I  am,  Gora  dear,  how 
grateful  we  all  are.  You  have  been  simply  wonder 
ful " 

' '  I  am  a  good  nurse  if  I  do  say  it  myself, ' '  said  Gora 
lightly.  ' '  But  you  must  remember  there  are  others  quite 
as  good;  and  that  I " 

' '  I  know  you  would  do  your  duty  as  devotedly  by  any 
stranger."  Alexina  interrupted  her  with  sweet  insist 
ence.  "But  it  has  been  wonderful  to  be  able  to  have 
you,  all  the  same.  It  has  also  given  me  the  chance  to 
know  you  at  last,  and  I  shall  never  quite  let  you  go 
again. ' ' 

Gora,  to  her  secret  anger,  had  never  accustomed  her 
self  to  the  unswerving  graciousness  of  these  people,  and 
all  that  it  implied,  but  her  sharp  mind  had  long  since 
warned  her  that  as  she  had  neither  the  position  nor  the 
training  to  emulate  it,  at  least  she  must  not  betray  a 
sense  of  social  inferiority  by  open  resentment. 

Her  voice  was  deep  and  naturally  abrupt  but  she 
achieved  a  fair  imitation  of  Alexina 's  sweet  cordiality. 
"It  has  meant  quite  as  much  to  me,  Alexina,  I  can  as 
sure  you.  And  now  that  I  am  on  my  own  and  shall  have 


106          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

a  day  or  two  between  cases  I  know  where  I  shall  spend 
them.  I  am  only  too  thankful  that  I  graduated  in  time 
to  take  care  of  dear  Mrs.  Groome.  Write  your  telegrams 
and  I  will  give  them  to  the  doctor  when  he  comes.  I 
must  telephone  to  him  at  once." 


ni 

After  she  had  gone  Alexina  wrote  not  only  her  tele 
grams  and  cablegrams,  but  the  "letters  to  follow."  It 
was  nearly  four  o'clock  when  she  finished.  Old  Dr. 
Maitland  had  not  yet  come  and  she  put  her  bulletins  on 
the  table  in  the  hall. 

She  heard  Gora  moving  about  her  mother's  room  and 
retreated  into  her  own.  She  did  not  want  to  go  to  her 
mother  yet  nor  did  she  care  particularly  to  see  Gora 
again,  although  she  had  certainly  been  very  nice  and  a 
great  comfort  to  them  all. 

Alexina  was  quite  unaware  that  her  attitude  to  her 
sister-in-law  was  one  of  unconsicous  condescension,  of  a 
well-bred  determination  never  to  wound  the  pride  of  a 
social  inferior.  She  found  Gora  an  "  interesting  per 
sonality"  and  quite  extraordinarily  efficient. 

It  had  been  the  greatest  relief  to  all  the  family  when 
that  very  capable  Miss  Dwight — Gora,  that  is ;  one  must 
remember — had  been  brought  by  Dr.  Maitland  to  take 
charge  of  the  case  after  Mrs.  Groome 's  cardiac  trouble 
became  acute  and  she  demanded  constant  attention. 

Gora  had  slept  in  Mrs.  Groome 's  bedroom  for  six 
weeks,  relieved  for  several  hours  of  the  afternoon  by  a 
member  of  the  family  or  one  of  Mrs.  Groome 's  many 
anxious  friends.  It  was  her  first  case  and  it  interested 
her  profoundly.  Moreover,  her  personal  devotion  placed 
her  for  the  moment  on  a  certain  basis  of  equality  with  a 
family  whose  mental  processes  were  quite  transparent  to 
!her  contemptuous  mind.  She  was  excessively  annoyed 
with  herself  for  still  caring,  but  the  roots  were  too  deep, 
and  there  had  been  nothing  in  her  life  during  the  past 
three  years  to  diminish  her  fierce  sense  of  democracy  as 
she  interpreted  it. 

Alexina  had  never  given  a  thought  to  her  sister-in- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  107 

law's  psychology,  although  the  sensitive  plates  of  her 
brain  received  an  impression  now  and  again  of  a  violent 
inner  life  behind  that  business-like  exterior.  But  she 
had  seen  little  of  her  until  lately,  and  during  the  past 
six  weeks  her  mind  had  been  too  concentrated  upon  her 
mother's  sufferings  and  possible  danger  to  have  any  dis 
position  for  analysis. 

She  certainly  did  not  feel  the  least  need  of  her  now. 
She  wished,  indeed,  that  she  had  asked  Aileen  to  remain 
in  the  house  last  night.  Aileen  was  her  own  age,  they 
had  been  intimate  since  childhood,  often  without  the 
slightest  regard  for  each  other's  feelings,  and  was  more 
like  a  sister  than  even  dear  Sally  and  Maria. 

Suddenly  she  determined  to  go  to  her.  She  had  her 
own  latch  key  and  would  disturb  no  one  but  Aileen.  She 
dressed  herself  warmly  and  slipped  down  stairs  and  out 
of  the  house. 


CHAPTER  II 


HTHE  city  below — the  new  solid  city — was  obliterated 
A  under  a  heavy  fog,  pierced  here  and  there  by 
steeples  and  towers  that  looked  like  jagged  dark  rocks 
in  that  white  and  tranquil  sea. 

On  Angel  Island  and  on  the  north  shore  of  the  bay 
the  deep  sad  bells  were  tolling  their  warning  to  moving 
craft ;  and  from  out  at  sea,  beyond  the  Golden  Gate,  the 
fog  horn  sent  forth  its  long  lugubrious  groans.  The  bells 
sounded  muffled,  so  dense  was  the  fog,  and  there  was  no 
other  sound  in  the  sleeping  city. 

Alexina  wrapped  her  long  cloak  more  closely  about 
her  and  pulled  the  hood  over  her  head. 

As  she  walked  slowly  down  the  steep  avenue  it  came 
to  her  with  something  of  a  shock  that  she  had  not  thought 
of  her  husband  since  she  had  expressed  to  Gora  her  re 
luctance  to  disturb  him. 

She  was  doing  the  least  conventional  thing  possible  in 


108          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

leaving  the  house  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  seek 
the  sympathy  of  a  girl  friend  when  any  other  young 
wife  she  knew  (unless  getting  a  divorce)  would  have 
flown  to  her  husband  and  wept  out  her  sorrow  in  his 
arms. 

And  she  had  been  married  only  three  years,  and  found 
Mortimer  quite  as  irreproachable  as  ever,  always  kind, 
thoughtful,  and  considerate.  He  assuredly  would  have 
said  just  the  right  things  to  her  and  not  have  resented 
in  the  least  being  deprived  of  a  few  hours  of  rest. 

On  the  contrary,  he  would  no  doubt  resent  being  ig 
nored,  for  not  only  was  he  devoted  to  his  lovely  young 
wife  but  such  behavior  was  unorthodox,  and  he  disliked 
the  unorthodox  exceedingly. 

Well,  she  didn't  want  him  and  that  was  the  end  of  it. 
He  didn't  fill  the  present  bill.  She  had  never  regretted 
her  marriage,  for  he  had  quite  measured  up  to  the  best 
feats  of  her  maiden  imagination.  He  made  love  charm 
ingly,  he  was  manly  chivalrous  and  honorable,  and  his 
eager  spontaneity  of  manner  when  he  arrived  home  at 
six  o'clock  every  evening  never  varied;  to  whatever 
level  of  flatness  he  might  drop  immediately  afterward. 
When  they  entered  a  ballroom  or  a  restaurant  she  knew 
that  they  made  a  "stunning  couple"  and  that  people 
commented  upon  their  good  looks,  their  harmonious  slen- 
derness  and  inches,  and  contrasts  in  nature 's  coloring. 

ii 

Alexina,  almost  unconsciously,  sat  down  on  a  bench 
under  the  trees.  Her  mind  sought  the  pleasant  past  as 
a  brief  respite  from  the  present ;  she  knew  that  that  part 
of  her  mind  called  heart  was  frozen  by  the  suddenness 
of  her  mother's  death,  and  that  her  emotions  would  be 
fluid  a  few  hours  hence. 

They  had  had  a  simply  heavenly  time  together  until 
her  mother's  illness.  As  a  clerk  in  the  family  was  un 
thinkable  Mrs.  Groome  had  lent  him  the  insurance  on 
one  of  her  burned  buildings  and  he  had  started  a  modest 
exporting  and  importing  house,  that  being  the  only  busi 
ness  of  which  he  had  any  knowledge.  Judge  Lawton 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          109 

and  Tom  Abbott  had  suggested  that  he  open  an  insur 
ance  office,  or  start  himself  in  any  business  where  little 
capital  besides  office  furniture  was  needed;  as  Mrs. 
Groome 's  advisors  they  were  averse  to  launching  any  of 
her  moderate  fortune  on  a  doubtful  venture.  But 
Dwight  had  insisted  that  he  was  more  likely  to  succeed 
in  a  business  he  understood  than  in  one  of  which  he 
knew  nothing,  and  Mrs.  Groome  had  agreed  with  him. 
Judge  Lawton  and  Abbott  paid  over  the  insurance  money 
with  the  worst  grace  possible. 

And  then  Mortimer  had  a  piece  of  the  most  astound 
ing  good  luck.  His  aunt  Eliza  Goring  had  left  stock  in 
a  mine  which  had  run  out  of  pay  ore  soon  after  her  in 
vestment,  and  shut  down.  It  had  recently  been  recap 
italized  and  a  new  vein  discovered.  Mrs.  Goring 's  ex 
ecutor  had  sold  her  stock  for  something  under  twenty 
thousand  dollars,  delivering  the  proceeds,  as  directed  in 
her  will,  to  two  of  her  amazed  heirs,  Mortimer  and  Gora 
Dwight. 

Gora  had  been  opposed  to  her  brother  leaving  the  firm 
of  Cheever  Harrison  and  Cheever,  where,  beyond  ques 
tion,  he  would  be  head  of  a  department  in  time  and 
safely  anchored  for  life ;  but  he  had  taken  the  step,  and 
she  reasoned  that  he  must  have  a  considerable  knowledge 
of  a  business  with  which  he  had  been  associated  for  four 
teen  years,  she  knew  his  energy  and  powers  of  applica 
tion,  and  she  resented  the  attitude  of  * '  the  family. ' '  Ap 
preciating  what  his  triumph  would  mean  to  him  she  had 
consented  to  invest  her  inheritance  in  his  business  and 
enable  him  to  make  immediate  restitution  to  Mrs. 
Groome.  As  a  matter  of  fact  his  " stock  did  go  up" 
with  the  family,  particularly  as  he  seemed  to  be  doing 
well  and  had  the  reputation  of  working  harder  than 
any  young  man  on  the  street.  As  he  had  anticipated,  a 
good  deal  of  business  was  thrown  his  way. 

He  had  accepted  as  a  matter  of  course  Mrs.  Groome 's 
invitation  to  live  with  her,  paying,  as  he  insisted  upon  it, 
a  stipulated  sum  toward  the  current  expenses.  He 
thought  her  offer  quite  natural;  not  only  would  she  be 
lonely  without  the  child  of  her  old  age,  but  she  must 
desire  that  Alexina  continue  to  live  in  the  conditions  to 


110          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

which  she  was  accustomed;  the  sum  Mrs.  Groome  con 
sented  to  accept  would  not  have  kept  them  in  a  fashion 
able  family  hotel,  much  less  an  apartment  with  several 
servants. 

Moreover,  housing  room  was  scarce;  they  might  have 
been  obliged  to  live  across  the  Bay ;  and,  in  his  opinion, 
the  duty  of  parents  to  their  offspring  never  ceased. 

Alexina  at  that  time  thought  every  sentiment  he  ex 
pressed  ' '  simply  great, ' '  and  had  continued  to  feed  from 
her  mother's  hand  even  in  the  matter  of  pin  money. 
Mortimer  felt  it  to  be  right,  so  he  told  her,  to  put  his 
surplus  profits  back  in  his  business;  all  he  could  spare 
he  needed  for  " front/'  to  say  nothing  of  pleasant  little 
dinners  at  restaurants  to  their  hospitable  young  friends ; 
who  thought  it  no  adequate  return  to  be  asked  to  dine 
on  Ballinger  Hill. 

Moreover,  he  often  gave  her  a  far  handsomer  present 
than  he  should  have  done,  considering  the  ' '  hard  times ; ' ' 
or  at  least  she  would  have  preferred  that  he  give  her 
the  combined  values  in  the  form  of  a  monthly  allow 
ance  ;  she  would  have  enjoyed  the  sensation  of  being  in  a 
measure  supported  by  her  husband. 

However,  she  and  her  mother  assured  each  other  that 
he  was  bound  to  make  a  fortune  in  time,  and  then  she 
would  have  an  allowance  as  large  as  that  of  Sibyl  Thorn- 
dyke,  who  had  married  Frank  Bascom. 

It  had  been  like  playing  at  marriage.  Alexina  put  it 
into  concrete  words.  Subconsciously  she  had  always 
known  it.  She  had  had  no  cares,  no  responsibilities. 
She  had  merely  continued  to  play,  to  keep  her  imagina 
tion  on  that  plane  sometimes  called  the  fool 's  paradise. 


ra 

She  realized  abruptly  that  here  was  the  secret  of  her 
longing  for  children.  They  would  have  been  the  real 
thing,  given  a  serious  translation  to  life. 

But  she  had  enjoyed  the  gay  life  of  her  little  world, 
nevertheless,  and  with  all  the  abandon  of  a  youth  which 
had  just  closed  its  first  long  chapter  in  that  silent  room 
on  top  of  the  hill.  And  no  one  could  have  asked  for  a 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          111 

more  delightful  companion  to  play  with  than  Morty, 
when  his  working  hours  were  over. 

Mortimer  loved  society.  It  had  been  simply  delicious,, 
poor  darling,  to  watch  his  secret  delight,  under  his  per 
fect  repose,  the  first  time  they  spent  a  week-end  in  Mrs. 
Hunter's  magnificent  "villa"  at  Burlingame.  Even 
Aileen  had  treated  his  initiation  as  a  matter  of  course; 
and  they  had  spent  the  afternoon  at  the  club,  where 
he  drank  whiskey  and  soda  on  equal  terms  with  many 
millionaires. 

IV 

It  was  doubtful  if  he  enjoyed  similarly  his  first  visit 
to  Rincona  during  their  engagement:  after  all  the  pow 
wow  was  over  and  the  family  had  grimly  surrendered 
to  avoid  the  scandal  of  an  elopement. 

Alexina  recalled  that  dreadful  day.  They  had  all  sat 
on  the  verandah  on  the  shady  side  of  the  house:  her 
mother,  Aunt  Clara  Groome,  Maria,  Susan  Delling  and 
Grace  Montgomery,  Tom  Abbott's  sisters,  whose  homes 
were  in  Alta,  and  Coralie  Geary,  born  Brannan,  of  Fair 
Oaks  (now  Atherton)  who  had  married  a  nephew  of 
Mrs.  Groome.  All  these  were  as  one  united  family. 
They  met  every  day,  wandering  in  and  out  at  all  hours, 
and  although  they  had  many  healthy  disagreements  they 
agreed  on  all  the  fine  old  fundamentals,  and  they  stood 
by  one  another  through  thick  and  thin. 

The  hair  of  all  looked  freshly  washed.  Their  complex 
ions  had  perished  asking  no  quarter.  Mrs.  Montgom 
ery  and  Mrs.  Geary  were  as  slim  and  smart  as  Mrs.  Ab 
bott,  but  the  others  were  expanding  rapidly,  and  Aunt 
Clara,  who  was  only  a  year  older  than  Mrs.  Groome,  was 
shamelessly  fat,  and  her  face  was  so  weather-beaten  that 
the  freckled  skin  hung  as  loosely  as  her  old  wrapper. 

All  wore  white,  the  simplest  white,  and  all  sewed 
quietly  for  the  new  refugee  babies;  all  except  Alexina 
who  talked  feverishly  to  cover  the  awful  pauses,  and 
young  Joan,  who  had  crawled  under  the  table  and  stuffed 
an  infant's  flannel  petticoat  into  her  mouth  to  muffle  her 
giggles. 

Tom  had  escaped  to  the  golf  links.     Mortimer  sat  in 


112          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

the  midst  of  the  irregular  circle  and  smoked  three  cigars. 
He  smiled  when  he  spoke,  which  was  seldom,  and  ap 
peared  appreciative  of  the  determined  efforts  to  be 
"nice"  of  these  ladies  who  had  called  him  Mortimer  as 
Boon  as  he  arrived,  and  who  made  him  feel  more  like 
a  poor  relation  whose  feelings  must  be  spared,  every 
moment. 

Finally  Alexina,  who  was  on  the  verge  of  hysteria, 
dragged  Joan  from  under  the  table,  and  the  two  carried 
him  off  to  the  tennis  court. 

In  subsequent  visits,  now  covering  a  period  of  three 
years,  their  gracious  civil  "kind"  attitude  had  never 
varied,  save  only  when  their  consciences  hurt  them  for 
disliking  him  more  than  usual,  and  then  they  were  not 
only  heroic  but  fairly  effusive  in  their  efforts  to  be  nice. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  quite  patent  to  Alexina  that  he 
enjoyed  smoking  his  after-dinner  cigar  on  that  old  ve 
randah  whose  sweet-scented  vines  had  been  planted  in  the 
historic  sixties;  or  under  the  ancient  oaks  of  the  park 
where  he  dreamed  aloud  to  her  of  sitting  under  similar 
oaks  of  England,  the  guest  of  Lady  Barnstable  or  Lady 
Arrowmount,  belles  of  the  eighties  who  faithfully  ex 
changed  letters  once  a  year  with  Maria  Abbott  and 
Coralie  Geary. 

From  the  family  there  was  always  the  refuge  of  the 
tennis  court  and  he  played  an  excellent  game.  He  also 
seemed  to  enjoy  those  dinners  given  them  in  certain 
other  old  Peninsula  mansions,  and  if  they  were  dull  he 
was  duller. 

IV 

Alexina  had  admitted  to  herself  some  time  since  (never 
to  that  wretch,  Aileen  Lawton)  that  he  was  rather  dull, 
poor  darling. 

For  a  long  time  the  aftermath  of  the  earthquake  and 
fire  had  supplied  topics  for  conversation.  For  quite  two 
years  there  had  been  an  acutely  painful  interest  in  the 
Graft  Prosecution,  which,  beginning  with  an  attempt 
merely  to  bring  to  justice  the  political  boss,  his 
henchman  the  mayor,  and  his  ignorant  obedient  board 
of  supervisors,  had  unthinkably  resolved  itself  into  a  dec- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  113 

laration  of  war,  with  State's  Prison  as  its  goal,  upon 
some  of  the  most  prominent  capitalists  in  San  Francisco. 

The  prosecution  had  been  started  by  a  small  group  of 
eminent  citizens,  bent  upon  cleaning  up  their  city,  noto 
rious  for  graft,  misgovernment,  and  the  basest  abuses 
of  political  power.  They  had  assumed  as  a  matter  of 
course  that  those  of  their  own  class,  who  for  years  had 
expressed  in  private  their  bitter  resentment  against  pay 
ing  out  small  fortunes  to  the  board  of  supervisors  every 
time  they  wanted  a  franchise,  would  be  only  too  glad  to 
expose  the  malefactors. 

But  it  immediately  transpired  that  they  had  no  inten 
tion  whatever  of  admitting  to  the  world  that  they  had 
been  guilty  of  corruption  and  bribery.  They  might  have 
been  "held  up,"  forced  to  "come  through,"  or  renounce 
their  great  enterprises ;  helpless,  in  other  words ;  but  the 
law  had  technical  terms  for  their  part  in  the  shameful 
transactions,  and  so  had  the  public. 

All  solemnly  vowed  that  they  had  neither  been  ap 
proached  by  the  city  administration  for  bribe  money, 
nor  paid  a  cent  for  franchises,  some  of  which  the  prose 
cution  knew  had  cost  them  no  less  than  two  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  Therefore  did  the  prosecutors  change 
their  tactics.  Supervisors,  by  various  means,  were  in 
duced  to  confess,  and  the  Grand  Jury  indicted  not  only 
the  boss  and  the  mayor,  but  a  large  number  of  eminent 
citizens. 

Society  was  riven  in  twain.  Life-long  friends  cut  one 
another,  and  now  and  again  they  burst  into  hysteria  as 
they  did  it.  Mrs.  Ferdinand  Thornton,  at  a  dinner 
party,  left  the  room  as  Mrs.  Hofer  entered  it,  and  Mrs. 
Hofer  gave  a  magnificent  exhibition  of  Celtic  tempera 
ment. 

The  editor  who  supported  the  prosecution  with  the 
full  strength  of  his  historic  sheet  was  kidnapped.  The 
prosecuting  attorney  was  shot  in  the  court  room  by  a 
former  convict  who  afterward  was  found  dead  in  his  cell. 
There  were  moments  when  it  looked  as  if  excited  mobs 
would  reinstitute  the  lynch  law  of  the  fifties. 

Nothing  came  of  it  all  but  such  a  prolonged  exposure 
of  general  vileness  that  it  was  possible  to  effect  a  certain 


114,          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

number  of  reforms  later  by  popular  vote.  The  system 
remained  inviolate,  even  during  the  mayorship  of  a  fine 
old  citizen  too  estimable  to  build  up  a  rival  machine; 
and  the  men  of  the  prosecution,  after  many  bitter  har 
assed  months,  when  they  walked  and  slept  with  their 
lives  in  their  hands,  resigned  themselves  to  the  fact  that 
no  San  Francisco  jury  would  ever  convict  a  man  who 
had  the  money  to  bribe  it. 

All  this  had  given  Mortimer  abundant  material  for 
conversation  and  he  had  entertained  Mrs.  Groome  and 
Alexina  night  after  night  with  a  report  of  the  day's 
events  and  the  gossip  of  the  street.  Mrs.  Groome  had 
been  intensely  interested,  for  this  upheaval  reminded 
her  of  personal  episodes  in  the  life  of  her  husband  and 
father,  the  latter  having  been  a  member  of  the  vigilance 
committees  of  the  fifties. 

She  had  been  so  delighted  with  the  efforts  of  the  prose 
cuting  group  to  bring  the  boss  and  the  mayor  to  justice 
that  she  had  permitted  Alexina  to  invite  the  Hofers  to 
dinner;  but  when  men  of  her  own  proud  circle  were 
accused  of  crimes  against  society  and  threatened  with 
San  Quentin,  nothing  could  convince  her  of  their  guilt ; 
and  she  asked  Alexina  to  follow  the  example  of  Maria 
and  cut  that  Mrs.  Hof  er. 

Alexina  had  never  been  interested  in  the  details  of  the 
prosecution;  the  large  moments  of  the  drama  and  the 
social  convulsions  were  enough  for  her.  She  refused  to 
cut  Mrs.  Hofer,  although  she  ceased  to  call  on  her,  as 
her  mother  and  her  husband  made  such  a  point  of  it; 
but  she  gave  little  thought  to  the  sorrows  of  that  am 
bitious  young  matron.  She  had  other  fish  to  fry. 


Two  great  hotels  whose  interiors  had  been  swept  by 
the  fire  were  renovated  and  furnished  and  their  restau 
rants  and  ballrooms  eagerly  patronized.  The  Assembly 
balls  were  resumed.  There  were  dinners  and  dances  in 
the  Western  Addition,  where  many  of  the  finest  homes 
in  the  city  had  been  built  during  the  past  ten  or  twenty 
years;  and  entertaining  Down  the  Peninsula  had  not 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          115 

paused  for  more  than  two  months  after  the  disaster. 

Nevertheless,  she  had  exulted  in  the  fact  that  the  hus 
band  of  her  choice  was  able  to  please  and  entertain  her 
mother — no  easy  feat.  Moreover,  as  time  went  on  and 
interest  in  the  Graft  Prosecution  wore  thin,  it  was  evi 
dent  that  Mortimer  had  established  himself  firmly  in 
his  mother-in-law's  graces.  He  was  not  only  the  perfect 
husband  but  the  son  of  her  old  age. 

She  had  lost  Ballinger  and  Geary  in  her  comparative 
youth,  and  Tom  was  rarely  in  the  house  when  she  vis 
ited  Rincona.  But  Mortimer  was  as  devoted  to  her  in 
the  little  ways  so  appreciated  by  women  of  any  age  as 
he  was  to  his  wife,  and  he  was  noiseless  in  the  house  and 
as  prompt  as  the  clock.  During  her  illness  his  devo 
tion  touched  even  Mrs.  Abbott,  although  Mrs.  Groome 
was  the  only  member  of  the  family  he  ever  won  over. 


VI 

Poor  Morty.  In  a  way  he  was  a  failure,  after  all. 
The  men  of  her  set  did  not  seem  to  care  any  more  for 
him  than  they  did  before  her  marriage,  although  they 
were  always  polite  and  amiable ;  and  the  promise  of  those 
old  family  friends  to  throw  business  in  his  way  seemed 
to  be  forgotten  as  time  went  on. 

No  doubt  they  had  thought  he  was  able  to  stand  on 
his  own  feet  after  a  while,  but  he  had  often  looked  de 
pressed  during  the  panic  of  nineteen-seven  and  the  long 
period  of  business  drought  that  had  followed.  Still,  he 
had  managed  to  hold  his  own,  and  his  constitutional 
optimism  was  unshaken.  He  knew  that  when  times 
changed  he  would  soon  be  a  rich  man,  and  Alexina 
shared  his  faith.  Not  that  she  had  ever  cared  particu 
larly  for  great  wealth,  but  he  talked  so  much  about  it 
that  he  had  excited  her  imagination;  after  all  money 
was  the  thing  these  days,  no  doubt  of  that,  and  she  had 
heard  "poor  talk"  all  her  life  and  was  tired  of  it. 

Moreover,  nothing  could  be  more  positive  than  that  if 
Morty 's  father  had  made  a  fortune  in  his  own  day,  and 
the  son  inherited  and  administered  it  with  the  canny 


116          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

vigilance  which  distinguished  the  sons  of  rich  men  to-day 
from  the  mad  spendthrifts  of  a  former  generation,  he 
would  be  as  logically  intimate  with  those  young  capital 
ists  who  were  the  renewed  pillars  of  San  Francisco  so 
ciety,  as  she  was  with  the  most  aloof  and  important  of 
her  own  sex. 

She  had  heard  Judge  Lawton  and  other  men  say  that 
if  a  man  were  still  a  clerk  at  thirty  he  was  hopeless. 
The  ruts  were  packed  with  the  mediocre  whose  destiny 
was  the  routine  work  of  the  world,  whatever  might  be 
their  secret  opinions  of  their  unrecognized  abilities  and 
their  resentment  against  a  system  that  anchored  them. 

The  young  man  of  brains  and  initiative,  of  energy, 
ambition,  vision  and  balance,  provided  he  were  honorable 
as  well,  and  temperate  in  his  pleasures,  was  the  man 
the  eager  world  was  always  waiting  for. 

Alexina  knew  that  the  United  States  was  almost  as 
prolific  in  this  fine  breed  of  young  men  as  she  still  was 
in  opportunities  for  the  exceptional  of  every  class. 

And  it  was  possible  that  Mortimer  was  not  one  of 
them. 

Once  more  she  put  a  fact  into  bald  words.  She  knew 
that  her  butterfly  youth  had  come  to  an  end  with  her 
mother's  death,  and  for  a  year  she  should  be  very  much 
alone,  to  say  nothing  of  her  new  burden  of  responsibili 
ties.  Thinking  during  that  period  was  inevitable.  She 
might  as  well  begin  now. 

Mortimer  had  some  of  those  gifts.  He  worked  like  a 
dog,  he  was  ambitious  and  temperate  and  he  was  the 
soul  of  honor.  But  although  his  brain  was  clear  enough, 
the  blindest  love  would  perceive  in  time  that  it  lacked 
originality. 

Did  it  also  lack  initiative,  resource,  that  peculiar  alert 
ness  and  quick  pouncing  quality  of  which  she  had  heard  ? 
She  wished  she  knew,  but  she  had  never  discussed  her 
husband  with  any  one.  Certainly  he  had  stood  still.  Or 
was  that  merely  the  fault  of  the  hard  times?  She  had 
heard  other  men  complain  as  bitterly. 

"Fate  handed  you  a  lemon,  old  girl." 

Alexina  could  almost  hear  Aileen's  mocking  voice. 
She  even  gave  a  startled  glance  down  the  quiet  avenue. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          117 

"Well,  she  would  never  discuss  him  with  Aileen  or  any 
one  else. 

Did  she  love  him  any  longer?  Had  she  ever  loved 
him  ?  What  was  love  ?  She  had  been  quite  happy  with 
him  in  her  own  little  way.  What  did  girls  of  eighteen 
know  of  love?  Deliberately  in  her  youthful  arrogance 
and  unlicensed  imagination  she  had  manufactured  a 
fool's  paradise;  and,  a  hero  being  indispensable,  had 
dragged  him  in  after  her. 

Perhaps  she  still  loved  him.  She  had  read  and  seen 
enough  to  know  that  love  changed  its  character  as  the 
years  went  on.  She  respected  his  many  admirable  quali 
ties  and  she  would  never  forget  his  devotion  to  her 
mother. 

She  certainly  liked  him.  And  the  family  attitude 
roused  her  obstinate  championship  as  much  as  ever.  At 
least  she  would  always  remain  his  good  friend,  helping 
him  as  far  as  lay  in  her  power.  She  had  deliberately 
selected  her  life  partner  and  she  would  keep  her  part  of 
the  contract.  He  filled  his  to  the  letter,  or  as  far  as  in 
him  lay.  If  he  were  not  the  masterful  superman  of  her 
dreams,  at  least  he  was  quite  obstinate  enough  to  have 
his  own  way  in  many  things,  in  spite  of  his  unswerving 
devotion  to  her  charming  self.  He  was  whitely  angry 
when  she  received  Bob  Cheever  one  afternoon  when  she 
was  alone,  and  had  forbidden  her  ever  to  receive  a  man 
in  the  daytime  again.  If  men  wanted  to  call  on  a  mar 
ried  woman  they  could  do  so  in  the  evening.  She  no 
longer  danced  more  than  twice  with  any  man  at  a  party, 
and  he  refused  to  read  her  favorite  books,  new  or  old, 
and  chilled  any  attempt  to  discuss  them  in  his  presence. 


VII 

Well,  after  all,  what  did  it  matter?  She  had  dreamed 
her  dream  and  he  was  better  than  most.  She  sprang  to 
her  feet  and  ran  down  the  hill  and  across  the  street  to 
the  house  of  Judge  Lawton. 


118          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  III 


GORA  waited  until  her  brother  had  finished  his  bath 
and  returned  to  his  room.  When  she  was  admitted 
he  had  a  brush  in  either  hand  polishing  his  pale  brown 
immaculately  cut  hair.  He  turned  to  her,  startled,  his 
good  American  gray  eyes  showing  no  trace  of  sleep.  He 
always  awoke  with  alert  mind  and  refreshed  body. 

"What  is  it?    Not " 

Gora  nodded.  "At  two  this  morning.  Alexina 
wouldn't  let  me  call  you* " 

His  wide  masculine  eyebrows  met.  It  was  correct  to 
be  angry  and  he  was.  "I  never  heard  of  such  a 
thing- — " 

' '  She  was  not  a  bit  overcome  and  wrote  letters  to  her 
brothers  and  friends  for  at  least  two  hours.  It  really 
wouldn't  have  been  worth  while  to  disturb  you — I  must 
say  I  was  astonished;  thought  she'd  go  to  pieces — but 
you  never  know. ' ' 

"I'll  goto  her  at  once." 

"I'd  dress  first.    Aileen  Lawton  is  with  her." 

Gora  knew  that  Alexina  had  gone  out  at  four  in  the 
morning  and  returned  half  an  hour  since,  but  the  cat  in 
her  was  of  the  tiger  variety  and  never  descended  to  small 
game. 

"Oh,  of  course!"  Mortimer  gave  a  groan  of  resigna 
tion  as  he  hunted  out  a  pair  of  black  socks.  "I  like 
Aileen  well  enough,  but  she  has  altogether  too  much 
influence  over  Alexina.  She'd  have  more  than  myself 
if  I  didn't  keep  a  close  watch." 

"I  have  an  idea  that  no  one  will  have  much  influence 
over  Alexina  as  time  goes  on.  She  hasn't  that  jaw  and 
chin  for  nothing.  They  mean  things  in  some  people." 

He  gave  her  a  quick  suspicious  glance,  but  her  pale 
gray  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  windmill  beyond  the  window, 
that  odd  old  landmark  in  a  now  fashionable  quarter  of 
San  Francisco. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          119 

"I  shall  always  control  her/'  he  said,  setting  his  large 
finely  cut  lips.  ' '  I  wish  her  to  remain  a  child  as  long  as 
possible,  for  she  is  quite  perfect  as  she  is.  She  is  bright 
and  all  that,  but  of  course  she  has  no  intellect " 

Gora  forgot  her  message  of  death  and  laughed  out 
right. 

"Men — American  men,  anyhow — are  really  the  fun 
niest  things  in  the  world.  Even  intellectual  men  are 
absurd  in  their  patronizing  attitude  toward  the  cleverest 
of  women;  but  when  it  comes  to  mere  masculine  arro 
gance  .  .  .  don't  you  really  respect  any  woman's 
brains  ? ' ' 

"I  never  denied  that  some  women  were  clever  and  all 
that,  but  the  best  of  them  cannot  compare  with  men. 
You  must  admit  that." 

"I  admit  nothing  of  the  sort,  but  I  know  your  type 
too  well  to  waste  any  time  in  argument " 

"My  type?" 

She  longed  to  reply :  '  *  The  smaller  a  man 's  brain  the 
more  enveloping  his  mere  male  arrogance.  Instinct  of 
self-defense  like  the  turtle's  shell  or  the  porcupine's 
quills  or  the  mephitic  weasel's  extravasations."  But  she 
never  quarreled  with  Morty,  and  to  have  shared  with 
him  her  opinion  of  his  endowments  would  have  been  to 
deprive  herself  of  a  good  deal  of  secret  amusement. 

"Oh,  you're  all  alike,"  she  said  lightly,  and  added: 
"Don't  be  too  sure  that  Alexina  hasn't  intellect — the 
real  thing.  When  she  emerges  from  this  beatific  dream 
of  youth  she  has  almost  hugged  to  death  for  fear  it 
might  escape  her,  and  begins  to  think " 

"I'll  do  her  thinking." 

* '  All  right,  dear.  You  have  my  best  wishes.  But  keep 
on  the  job.  ...  111  clear  out;  you  want  to  dress " 

1 '  Wait  a  moment. ' '  He  sat  down  to  draw  on  his  socks. 
* '  I  'm  really  cut  up  over  Mrs.  Groome  's  death.  She  was 
my  only  friend  in  this  damn  family,  and  I  coveted  her 
money  so  little  that  I  wish  she  could  have  lived  on  for 
twenty  years. ' ' 

"I  wondered  how  you  liked  them  as  time  went  on." 

He  brought  his  teeth  together  and  thrust  out  his  jaw. 
"I  hate  the  whole  pack  of  superior  patronizing  con- 


120          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

descending  snobs,  and  it  is  all  I  can  do  to  keep  it  from 
Alexina,  who  thinks  her  tribe  perfection.  But,  by  God ! ' ' 
— he  brought  down  his  fist  on  his  knee — "I'll  beat  them, 
at  their  own  game  yet.  I  simply  live  to  make  a  million 
and  build  a  house  at  Burlingame.  They  really  respect 
money  as  much  as  they  think  they  don 't ;  I  've  got  on  to 
that.  When  I  'm  a  rich  man  they  11  think  of  me  as  thejr 
equal  and  forget  I  was  ever  anything  else." 

"Well,  don't  specula te,"  said  Gora  uneasily.  "Re 
member  that  luck  was  left  out  of  our  family." 

"My  luck  changed  with  that  legacy.  I  am  certain  of 
it.  I  have  only  to  wait  until  this  period  of  dry  rot 
passes " 

"But  you're  not  speculating?" 

He  looked  at  her  with  eyes  as  cold  as  her  own. 

"I  answer  questions  about  my  private  affairs  to  no 
one." 

"They  are  my  affairs  to  the  extent  of  half  your 
capital. ' ' 

"You  have  received  your  interest  regularly,  have  you 
not?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  you  have  nothing  to  worry  about.  I  under 
stand  business,  as  well  as  the  man's  opportunities,  and 
you  do  not." 

' '  I  did  not  ask  out  of  curiosity,  but  because  I  shall  be 
glad  when  you  are  doing  well  enough  to  let  me  have  my 
eight  thousand " 

' '  What  do  you  want  of  it  ?  Where  could  you  get  more 
interest?" 

"Nowhere,  possibly.  But  some  day  I  shall  want  to 
take  a  vacation,  a  fling.  I  shall  want  to  go  to  New  York 
and  Europe." 

"And  you  would  throw  away  your  capital?" 

"Why  not?  I  have  other  capital  in  my  profession; 
and,  although  you  will  find  this  difficult  to  grasp,  in  my 
head.  I  have  practiced  fiction  writing  for  years.  It  is 
just  ten  months  since  I  tried  to  get  anything  published, 
and  I  have  recently  had  three  stories  accepted  by  New 
York  magazines:  one  of  the  old  group  and  two  of  the 
best  of  the  popular  magazines." 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          121 

He  looked  at  her  with  cold  distaste,  which,  deepened 
in  a  moment  to  alarm.  "I  hope  you  will  not  use  your 
own  name.  These  people  who  think  themselves  so  much 
above  us  anyhow,  look  upon  authors  and  artists  and  all 
that  as  about  on  a  level  with  the  working  class " 

''I  shall  use  my  own  name  and  ram  it  down  their 
throats.  They  worship  success  like  all  the  rest  of  the 
world.  Their  fancied  distaste  for  people  engaged  in  any 
of  the  art  careers — with  whom  they  practically  never 
come  in  contact,  by  the  way — is  partly  an  instinctive 
distrust  of  anything  they  cannot  do  themselves  and 
partly  because  they  have  an  Elizabethan  idea  that  all 
artists  are  common  and  have  offensive  manners." 

"I  don't  like  the  idea  of  your  using  your  own  name. 
Ladies  may  unfortunately  be  obliged  to  earn  their  own 
living — and  that  you  shall  never  do  when  I  am  rich — 
but  they  have  no  business  putting  their  names  up  before 
the  public  like  men. ' ' 

Gora  looked  at  his  rigid  indomitable  face ;  the  face  of 
the  Pilgrim  fathers,  of  the  revolutionary  statesmen, 
which  he  had  inherited  intact  from  old  John  Dwight 
who  had  sat  in  the  first  congress;  the  American  classic 
face  that  is  passing  but  still  crops  out  as  unexpectedly 
as  the  last  drop  from  a  long  forgotten  "tar  brush,"  or 
the  sly  recurrent  Biblical  profile. 

"We  will  make  a  bargain,"  she  said  calmly.  "I  will 
ask  you  no  more  questions  about  your  business  for  a 
year — when,  if  convenient,  I  should  like  my  money — 
and  you  will  kindly  ignore  the  literary  career  I  mean  to 
have.  It  won't  do  you  the  least  good  in  the  world  to 
formulate  opinions  about  anything  I  choose  to  do.  Now, 
better  concentrate  on  Alexina.  You've  got  your  hands 
full  there.  See  you  at  breakfast."  And  she  shut  the 
door  on  an  indignant  worried  and  disgusted  brother. 


122  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  IV 


"1K7HEN  Mortimer,  after  tapping  on  his  wife's  door, 
*^  was  bidden  to  enter  he  found  her  sitting  with 
Aileen  over  a  breakfast  tray,  the  belated  tears  running 
down  into  her  coffee.  Aileen,  promising  to  return  after 
she  had  given  her  father  his  breakfast,  made  a  hasty 
retreat;  and  Dwight  took  his  wife  in  his  arms  and 
soothed  the  grief  which  grew  almost  hysterical  in  its 
reaction  from  the  insensibility  of  the  morning. 

"You  won't  leave  me  for  a  moment?"  she  sobbed,  in 
this  mood  finding  his  sympathy  exquisite  and  necessary. 
' '  You  01  stay  home— until— until ' ' 

"Of  course.  I'll  telephone  Wicksam  after  breakfast. 
He  can  run  the  office  for  a  day  or  two.  By  the  way 
Maria  will  be  here  this  evening;  Sally  is  better.  Joan 
and  Tom  and  the  rest  will  be  here  in  about  an  hour. 
Tom  and  I  will  attend  to  everything.  You  are  not  to 
bother,  not  to  think." 

"Oh,  you  are  too  wonderful — always  so  strong — so 
strong — how  I  love  it.  But  111  never  get  over  this — 
poor  old  mommy ! ' ' 

But  the  paroxysm  passed,  and  just  as  Mortimer  was 
on  the  verge  of  morning  starvation  and  too  polite  to 
mention  it,  she  grew  calm  by  degrees  and  sent  him 
down  to  breakfast.  The  emotional  phase  of  her  grief 
was  over. 


CHAPTER  V 


TT  was  three  months  later  that  Aileen,  once  more  sit- 
•*•  ting  in  Alexina's  bedroom,  after  her  return  from 
Santa  Barbara,  where  she  had  gone  with  her  father  for 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  123 

the  summer,  said  abruptly:  "Dad  is  terribly  cut  up, 
dear  old  thing.  He'd  known  your  mother  since  they 
were  both  children,  in  the  days  when  there  were  wooden 
sidewalks  on  Montgomery  Street,  and  Laurel  Hill  was 
called  Lone  Mountain,  and  they  had  picnics  in  it.  Odd 
they  both  should  have  had  young  daughters.  Another 
link — what?  as  the  English  say.  Well — anyhow — he 
told  me  to  tell  you  that  he  was  just  as  fond  of  your 
father  as  of  your  mother,  and  that  you  must  try  to 
imagine  that  he  is  your  father  from  this  time  forth,  and 
come  to  him  when  you  are  in  doubt  about  anything. ' ' 

Alexina  looked  her  straight  in  the  eyes.  '  *  I  have  some 
times  thought  uncle  daddy  didn't  like  Mortimer." 

"On  the  contrary,  he  rather  likes  him.  He  respects  a 
capacity  for  hard  work,  and  persistence,  and  a  reputa 
tion  for  uncompromising  honesty.  But  of  course  Morti 
mer  is  young — in  business,  that  is;  and  father  thinks — 
but  you  had  better  talk  with  him." 

"No.  Why  should  I?  But  I  don't  mind  you.  At 
least  I  could  not  discuss  Mortimer  with  any  one  else. 
I  am  furious  with  Tom  Abbott.  He  wants  me  to  put 
my  money  in  trust,  with  himself  and  uncle  daddy  as 
trustees — ignoring  Mortimer,  whom  he  pretends  to  like. 
He  says  Maria's  fortune  has  been  kept  intact,  that  he 
has  never  touched  a  cent  of  it,  but  that  men  in  business 
are  likely  to  get  into  tight  places  and  use  their  wife's 
money.  Nothing  would  induce  Mortimer  to  touch  my 
money,  but  he  would  feel  pretty  badly  cut  up  if  I  let 
any  one  else  look  after  my  affairs.  Of  course  I  wouldn  't 
even  discuss  the  matter  with  Tom.  And  if  Morty  does 
need  money  at  any  time  I'll  lend  it  to  him.  Why  not? 
What  else  would  any  one  expect  me  to  do  ? ' ' 

'  *  Of  course  Tom  Abbott  went  to  work  the  wrong  way, 
the  blundering  idiot.  No  one  doubts  Mortimer's  good 
faith,  but  the  times  are  awful,  money  has  paresis;  and 
when  you  are  obliged  to  take  any  of  your  own  out  of  the 
stocking  in  order  to  keep  business  going,  it  is  easily  lost. 
Dad  hopes  you  will  hang  on  like  grim  death  to  your 
inheritance.  You  see — the  times  are  so  abnormal,  Morti 
mer  hasn  't  had  time  to  prove  his  abilities  yet ;  he 's  just 
been  able  to  hold  on ;  and  if  things  don 't  mend  and  he 


124          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

should  lose  out,  why — if  you  still  have  your  own  little 
fortune,  at  least  you'll  not  be  any  worse  off  than  you 
are  now.  Don't  you  see?" 

11  Yes,  I  see.  But  Mortimer  has  told  me  of  other  panics 
and  bad  times.  They  always  pass,  and  better  times  come 
again.  And  if  he  has  been  able  to  hold  on,  that  at  least 
shows  ability,  for  others  have  gone  under.  Of  course 
we  shall  live  here  and  run  the  house — as  mother  did. 
I  couldn't  bear  to  live  anywhere  else,  and  Morty  adores 
it  too." 

1  'Oh,  rather.    I  couldn't  imagine  you  anywhere  else." 

"  Geary  and  Ballinger  sent  me  ten  thousand  dollars 
for  a  wedding  present  and  Morty  bought  some  bonds 
for  me,  but  I'm  going  to  sell  a  few  and  refurnish  the 
lower  rooms.  I  love  the  old  house  but  I  like  cheerful 
modern  things.  The  poor  old  parlors  and  dining-room 
do  look  like  sarcophagi." 

' '  Good.    I  '11  help.    We  '11  have  no  end  of  fun. ' ' 


There  was  a  pause  and  then  Alexina  said :  ' '  Mortimer 
is  so  determined  to  be  a  rich  man  and  thinks  of  so  little 
else  and  works  so  hard,  that  he  is  bound  to  be.  Other 
wise,  such  gifts  would  be  meaningless." 

She  made  the  statements  with  an  unconscious  rising 
inflection.  Aileen  did  not  answer  and  turned  her  sharp 
revealing  green  eyes  on  the  eucalyptus  grove  which  con 
cealed  Ballinger  House  from  the  vulgar  gaze,  and  inci 
dentally  shut  off  a  magnificent  view. 

"I  don't  know  whether  I  like  Gora  Dwight  or  not," 
she  remarked. 

"Neither  do  I.    But  I  admire  her.    She  is  a  wonder." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  admire  her,  and  I've  a  notion  she's  got 
something  big  in  her,  some  sort  of  destiny.  But  those 
light  eyes  in  that  dark  face  give  me  the  creeps.  It  isn't 
that  I  don't  trust  her.  I  believe  her  to  be  insolently 
honest  and  honorable — and  just,  if  you  like.  But — 
perhaps  it's  only  the  accident  of  her  queer  coloring — 
she  gives  me  the  impression  that  while  she  might  go  to 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          125 

the  stake  for  her  pride,  she'd  murder  you  in  cold  blood 
if  you  got  in  her  way. ' ' 

' '  Poor  Gora !    You  make  her  all  the  more  interesting. ' ' 

"Did  she  ever  tell  you  that  she  corresponds  with  that 
Englishman  who  was  out  here  at  the  time  of  the  earth 
quake  and  fire  and  had  that  ghastly  adventure  with  his 
sister?  We  all  met  him  at  the  Hofer  ball — Gathbroke 
his  name  was." 

Alexina  was  staring  at  her  with  an  amazed  frown. 
"Correspond — Gora?  ...  I  remember  now  he  told  me 
she  helped  him  to  carry  his  sister's  body  out  to  the  old 
cemetery.  Is  he  interested  in  her?" 

"I  shouldn't  wonder.  They've  corresponded  off  and 
on  ever  since.  I  walked  home  with  her  one  afternoon 
before  I  went  south — she  interests  me  frantically — and 
she  invited  me  up  to  her  quite  artistic  attic  in  Geary 
Street,  where  she  still  lives,  and  gave  me  the  most  vivid 
description  of  that  night.  It  made  me  crawl.  She  stared 
straight  before  her  as  she  told  it  Her  eyes  were  just 
like  gray  oval  mirrors  in  which  it  seemed  to  me  I  saw 
the  whole  thing  pass.  .  .  . 

"Then  she  showed  me  a  photograph  he  had  recently 
sent  her — stunning  thing  he  is,  all  right,  and  looks  years 
older  than  when  he  was  here.  She  also  alluded  to  things 
he  had  said  in  a  letter  or  two.  So  my  phenomenally 
quick  wits  inferred  that  they  correspond.  Perhaps  they 
are  engaged.  Pretty  good  deal  for  her." 


m 

Alexina,  to  her  surprise,  felt  intensely  angry,  although 
she  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  cast  up  her  eyes  until 
the  white  showed  below  the  large  brilliant  iris  and  she 
looked  like  a  saint  in  a  niche. 

She  had  kept  Gathbroke  out  of  her  thoughts  for  nearly 
four  years,  deliberately.  For  a  time  she  had  hated  him. 
Mortimer's  love-making  had  seemed  tame  in  comparison 
with  that  primitive  outburst,  and  never  had  she  felt  any 
such  fiery  response  to  the  man  she  had  loved  and  chosen 
as  during  those  few  moments  when  she  had  been  in  that 
impertinent,  outrageous,  loathsome  young  Englishman's 


126          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

arms.  At  first  she  had  wondered  and  resented,  loyally 
concluding  that  it  was  her  own  fault,  or  that  of  fate  for 
endowing  her  with  such  a  slender  emotional  equipment 
that  she  used  it  all  up  at  once  on  the  wrong  man. 
Finally,  she  found  it  wise  not  to  think  about  it  at  all 
and  to  dismiss  the  intruder  from  her  thoughts. 

Now  she  felt  outraged  in  her  sense  of  possession.  .  .  . 
Unconsciously  she  had  enshrined  him  as  the  secret  mate 
of  her  inmost  secret  self  ...  a  self  she  was  barely  con 
scious  of  even  yet  .  .  .  lurking  in  her  subconsciousness, 
the  personal  and  peculiar  blend  of  many  and  diverse 
ancestors.  .  .  .  Sometimes  she  had  glimpsed  it  ...  won 
dered  a  little  with  a  not  unpleasant  sense  of  apprehen 
sion.  .  .  . 

But  for  the  most  part  Circumstance  had  decreed  that 
she  abide  on  the  abundant  surface  of  her  nature  and 
enjoy  a  highly  enjoyable  life  as  it  came.  Now,  she  had 
experienced  her  first  grief,  which  at  the  same  time  was 
her  first  set-back.  She  did  not  go  out  at  all.  She  saw 
much  of  Mortimer  and  little  of  any  one  else.  It  was  the 
summer  season  and  all  her  friends  were  in  the  country 
or  in  Europe. 

She  had  given  Mortimer  her  power  of  attorney  (largely 
a  gesture  of  defiance,  this)  and  he  had  attended  to  all 
details  connected  with  her  new  fortune.  Between  the 
inheritance  tax,  small  legacies,  and  depreciations,  she 
would  have  a  little  over  six  thousand  dollars  a  year; 
which,  however,  with  Mortimer's  contribution,  would  run 
the  old  house,  and  keep  her  wardrobe  up  to  mark  after 
she  went  out  of  mourning.  She  knew  nothing  of  the 
value  of  money,  and  was  accustomed  to  having  little  to 
spend  and  everything  provided.  But  her  mind  regard 
ing  finances  was  quite  at  rest.  Even  if  Mortimer  re 
mained  a  victim  of  the  hard  times,  they  would  be  quite 
comfortable. 

The  cares  of  housekeeping  were  very  light.  She  dis 
cussed  the  daily  menus  with  James,  but  he  had  run 
Ballinger  House  for  years,  little  as  Mrs.  Groome  had 
suspected  it.  Mortimer,  shortly  after  his  mother-in- 
law's  death,  and  while  Alexina  was  passing  a  fortnight 
at  Rincona,  had  given  James  orders  to  collect  all  bills  on. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          127 

the  first  of  every  month  and  hand  them  to  him,  together 
with  a  statement  of  the  servants'  wages.  Mrs.  D wight 
was  not  to  be  bothered. 

Alexina,  when  she  returned,  had  made  no  protest. 
The  details  of  housekeeping  did  not  appeal  to  her.  But 
the  arrangement  left  her  without  occupation,  and  much 
time  for  thought.  After  a  long  walk  morning  and  after 
noon  she  had  little  to  do  but  read.  She  was  an  early 
riser  and  her  mind  was  active. 

IV 

Dwight  had  not  the  least  intention  of  using  his  wife's 
money,  for  he  had  perfect  confidence  in  his  change  of 
luck,  and  in  his  ability  to  do  great  things  with  his  busi 
ness  as  soon  as  the  period  of  depression  had  passed.  But 
he  had  no  faith  in  any  woman's  ability  to  invest  and 
take  care  of  money,  he  had  fixed  ideas  in  regard  to  a 
man  being  master  in  his  own  house,  and  he  had  asked 
Alexina  for  her  power  of  attorney  more  to  flaunt  her 
confidence  in  him  and  to  annoy  her  damnable  relatives 
than  because  there  might  possibly  be  a  moment  when  he 
should  have  need  of  immediate  resources.  Like  many| 
Americans  he  chose  to  keep  his  wife  in  ignorance  of  his 
business  life,  and  it  would  have  annoyed  him  excessively 
to  go  to  her  with  an  explanation  of  temporary  difficul 
ties  and  ask  for  a  loan. 

Moreover,  he  wished  to  keep  Alexina  young  and  super 
ficial,  ignorant  of  money  matters,  indifferent  to  the  sor 
did  responsibilities  of  life.  Not  only  was  the  present 
Alexina  no  embarrassment  whatever  to  a  man  full  of 
schemes,  aside  from  the  slow  march  of  business,  for  get 
ting  rich,  but  she  was  infinitely  alluring. 

He  detested  business  women,  intellectual  women, 
women  with  careers;  they  tipped  the  even  balance  of 
the  man's  world;  moreover,  they  had  no  accepted  place 
in  the  higher  social  scheme.  For  women  wage-earners 
he  had  no  antipathy  and  much  sympathy  and  considera 
tion,  although  he  underpaid  them  cheerfully  when  cir 
cumstances  would  permit.  It  was  an  abiding  canker 
that  his  sister  was  obliged  to  support  herself;  he  was 


128          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

not  ashamed  of  it,  for  nursing  was  an  honorable  (and 
altruistic)  profession,  and  several  young  women  in  his 
new  circle  had  taken  it  up;  but  he  hated  it  as  a  man 
and  a  brother.  As  for  her  turning  herself  into  an 
authoress,  however,  he  only  hoped  he  would  make  his 
million  before  she  got  herself  talked  about. 

As  for  Alexina  she  was  the  perfect  flower  of  a  system 
he  worshiped  and  nothing  should  mar  or  change  her 
if  his  fond  surveillance  could  prevent  it. 

On  the  whole  he  was  quite  happy  at  this  time,  despite 
his  passionate  desire  for  wealth  and  his  natural  resent 
ment  at  the  attitude  of  the  Abbotts  and  their  intimate 
circle  of  old  friends  who  were  so  like  them  that  he  always 
included  them  in  his  mind  when  speaking  of  "the  fam 
ily/'  Although  he  was  making  barely  enough  to  pay 
his  sister  the  monthly  interest  on  her  money,  the  salaries 
of  his  employees,  and,  until  recently,  a  monthly  con 
tribution  to  the  household  expenses,  he  had  a  comfort 
able  and  delightful  home  with  not  a  few  of  the  minor 
luxuries,  an  undisputed  position  in  the  best  society,  an 
honorable  one  in  the  business  world,  and  a  beautiful 
wife.  Now  that  the  conventions  forced  them  to  live  the 
retired  life,  they  could  economize  without  attracting 
attention ;  as  he  paid  the  bills  Alexina  would  not  know 
whether  he  still  contributed  his  share  or  not;  (in  time 
he  meant  to  pay  the  whole  and  give  his  wife,  with  the 
grand  gesture,  her  entire  income  for  pin  money)  and, 
with  Alexina 's  cordial  assent,  he  had  sold  the  old  car 
riage,  and  the  horses,  which  were  eating  their  heads  off, 
dismissed  the  coachman-gardener,  and  found  a  young 
Swede  to  take  care  of  the  garden  and  outbuildings. 

Later,  they  would  have  their  car  like  other  people,  but 
there  was  no  need  for  it  at  present,  and  it  was  neither 
the  time  nor  the  occasion  to  exhibit  a  tendency  to  ex 
travagance.  In  the  matter  of  "front"  he  knew  pre 
cisely  where  to  leave  off. 


In  a  certain  small  anxious  bag-of-tricks  way  he  was 
clever.     But  not  clever  enough.     He  knew  nothing  of 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  129 

Alexina  beneath  her  shining  surface.  If  he  had  he 
would  have  sought  to  crowd  her  mind  with  the  details 
of  the  home,  encouraged  her  to  join  in  the  frantic  activi 
ties  of  some  one  of  the  women's  clubs  he  held  in  scorn, 
persuaded  her  to  play  golf  daily  at  the  fashionable  club 
of  which  they  were  members,  even  though  she  ran  the 
risk  of  talking,  unchaperoned  by  himself,  with  other 
men. 

He  never  would  have  left  her  to  long  hours  of  idle 
ness,  with  only  books  for  companions  (and  Alexina  cared 
little  for  novels  lacking  in  psychology,  or  in  revelations 
of  the  many  phases  of  life  of  which  she  was  personally 
so  ignorant) ;  and  only  his  own  companionship  evening 
after  evening. 

But  he  had  known  all  the  Alexina  he  was  ever  to 
know.  Such  flashing  glimpses  as  he  was  destined  to  have 
later  so  bewildered  him  that  he  reacted  obstinately  to  his 
original  estimate  of  her,  .  .  .  just  a  child  under  the  in 
fluence  of  her  family  or  some  of  those  friends  of  hers 
who  had  always  hated  him  .  .  .  erratic  and  irresponsi 
ble  like  all  women  ...  a  man  never  could  understand 
women  because  there  was  nothing  to  understand  .  .  . 
merely  a  bundle  of  contradictions.  .  .  . 

In  some  ways  his  mental  equipment  was  an  enviable 
one. 

VI 

Some  of  all  this  Alexina  guessed,  and  although  she 
was  nettled  at  times  that  he  took  no  note  of  ier  maturing 
mind  and  character,  she  was,  on  the  whole,  more  amused. 

Indulgent  by  nature,  and  somewhat  indolent,  she  had 
been  more  than  willing  that  Morty  should  enjoy  his  new 
'authority,  should  even  delude  himself  that  he  was  foot 
ing  all  the  bills,  poor  dear ;  and  she  listened  raptly  to  his 
evening  visions  of  their  future  life  in  Burlingame,  alter 
nated  with  visits  to  New  York  and  England,  the  while 
she  puzzled  over  the  intricacies  of  some  character  por 
trayed  by  a  master  analyst. 

Sometimes  he  did  not  talk  at  all,  utterly  fagged  by  a 
strenuous  day  in  which  he  had  accomplished  precisely 
nothing.  But  the  more  transparent  and  truncated  and 


130          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

dull  he  grew  the  more  spontaneous  the  "niceness"  and 
almost  effusive  courtesy  of  his  wife.  Insensibly  she  was 
veering  to  the  family  attitude,  but  he  had  tagged  her 
once  for  all  and  never  saw  it 

Until  this  moment,  however,  when  Gathbroke  had  been 
jerked  from  his  deep  seclusion  within  her  ivory  tower  by 
Aileen's  unwelcome  news,  she  had  never  had  a  moment 
of  complete  self -revelation.  .  .  .  She  knew  instantly  that 
she  had  never  loved  her  husband :  he  was  not  her  mate 
and  Gathbroke  was.  She  had  had  three  years  of  rippling 
content  and  light  enjoyment  with  Mortimer,  they  had 
never  quarreled  seriously,  and  they  had  never  taken 
their  parts  in  one  moment  of  real  drama. 

If  she  had  married  Gathbroke  they  would  have  quar 
reled  furiously,  they  would  have  thrown  courtesy  and 
behavior  to  the  winds  often  enough,  particularly  while 
they  were  young,  for  neither  would  have  been  in  the 
least  apprehensive  of  wounding  the  rank-pride  of  the 
other,  and  such  mutual  and  passionate  love  as  theirs 
naturally  gave  birth  to  a  high  state  of  irritability ;  they 
would  have  loved  and  hated  and  made  constant  discov 
eries  about  each  other  .  .  .  there  would  have  been  depths 
never  to  be  fully  explored  but  always  luring  them  on 
.  .  .  and  the  perfect  companionship  .  .  .  the  complete 
fusion.  .  .  . 

How  Alexina  knew  all  this  after  less  than  three  hours' 
association  with  Gathbroke,  let  any  woman  answer.  She 
was  not  so  foolish  as  to  imagine  herself  the  victim  of  a 
secret  passion,  or  that  she  had  ever  loved  the  man,  or 
ever  would.  She  had  merely  had  her  chance  for  the 
great  duodrama,  and  thrown  it  away  for  a  callow  dream. 
She  had  no  passing  wish,  even  in  that  moment  of  visual 
izing  him  interlocked  with  her  own  wraith  in  that  sacred 
inner  temple  where  even  she  had  never  intruded  before, 
to  meet  him  again.  She  had  no  intention  of  passing  any 
of  her  abundant  leisure  in  dreaming  dreams  of  him  and 
the  perfect  bliss.  But  he  had  been  hers  .  .  .  and  utterly 
...  he  had  loved  her  ...  he  had  wanted  her  ...  he 
had  precipitately  begged  her  to  marry  him  ...  he  had 
offered  her  the  homage  of  complete  brutality. 

Something  of  him  would  always  be  hers. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          131 

And  even  though  she  renounced  all  rights  in  him  be 
cause  she  must,  she  did  not  in  the  least  relish  that  any 
one  so  close  to  her  as  Gora  Dwight  should  have  him. 
She  might  have  heard  of  his  marriage  to  a  girl  of  his 
own  land  and  class  with  only  a  passing  spasm,  but  his 
continued  and  possibly  tender  friendship  with  her  sister- 
in-law  shook  her  out  of  the  last  of  her  jejunity  and  its 
illusions.  .  .  .  She  was  not  exactly  a  dog  in  the  manger 
.  .  .  she  was  a  maturing  woman  looking  back  with  anger 
and  dismay  not  only  upon  the  fatal  mistake  of  her  youth, 
but  upon  the  inexorable  realities  of  her  present  life.  .  .  . 

The  reaction  was  a  more  intense  feeling  of  loyalty  to 
Mortimer  than  ever.  She  was  entirely  to  blame.  He 
not  only  had  been  innocent  of  conscious  rivalry,  even  of 
pursuit — for  she  could  quite  easily  have  discouraged  him 
in  the  earlier  stages  of  his  courtship—but  he  was  de 
pendent  upon  her  in  every  way:  for  his  happiness,  for 
the  secure  social  position  that  meant  so  much  to  him,  for 
the  greater  number  of  his  valuable  connections,  for  even 
his  comfort  and  ease  of  living. 

Something  of  this  had  passed  through  her  stunned 
mind  on  the  morning  of  her  mother's  death.  Now  it  was 
all  as  sharply  outlined  as  the  etching  at  which  she  was 
raptly  gazing,  and  she  vowed  anew  that  she  would  never 
desert  him,  never  deny  him  the  assistance  of  the  true 
partner.  She  had  signed  a  life  contract  with  her  eyes 
open  and  she  would  keep  it  to  the  letter. 

Only  she  hoped  to  heaven  that  Gathbroke  was  not 
serious  about  Gora.  She  wished  never  to  be  reminded  of 
his  existence  again. 

And,  as  Aileen  talked  of  Santa  Barbara,  she  wondered 
vaguely  why  there  was  not  a  law  forbidding  girls  to 
marry  until  they  were  well  into  their  twenties  .  .  .  until 
they  had  had  a  certain  amount  of  experience  .  .  .  knew 
their  own  minds.  .  .  .  Maria  had  been  right.  .  .  . 


132          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  VI 


HPHE  darkness  had  come  early  with  the  high  rolling 
*  fog  that  shut  out  the  stars.  The  fog  horn  and  the 
bells  were  silent  but  the  wind  had  a  thin  anxious  note 
as  if  lost,  and  the  long  creaking  eucalyptus  trees  angrily 
repelled  it  as  if  irritated  beyond  endurance  by  its  eternal 
visitations. 

Alexina,  who  had  been  reading  in  her  bedroom,  real 
ized  that  it  must  be  quite  half  an  hour  since  she  had 
turned  a  page.  She  lifted  her  shoulders  impatiently. 
She  was  in  no  humor  for  reading. 

It  was  only  eight  o'clock.  Far  too  early  for  bed. 
Mortimer  had  gone  to  Los  Angeles  on  business.  He  had 
been  gone  a  week,  and  she  admitted  to  herself  with  the 
new  frankness  she  had  determined  to  cultivate — that  she 
might  meet,  with  the  clearest  possible  vision,  whatever 
three-cornered  deals  Life  might  have  in  store  for  her — 
that  she  had  not  missed  him  at  all.  His  absence  had 
been  a  heavenly  interlude.  She  and  Aileen  had  gone  to 
the  moving  pictures  unescorted  every  night  (a  perform 
ance  of  which  he  would  have  disapproved  profoundly), 
and  they  had  lunched  downtown  every  day  until  Alexina 
had  suddenly  discovered  that  she  had  no  more  money  in 
her  purse ;  and,  knowing  nothing  whatever  even  of  minor 
finance,  was  under  the  impression  that  having  given 
Mortimer  her  power  of  attorney  she  would  not  be  able 
to  draw  from  the  bank. 

Aileen  had  gone  down  to  Burlingame  to  visit  Sibyl 
Bascom  for  a  few  days.  Alexina  had  declined  to  go, 
although  it  was  a  quiet  party ;  it  would  be  embarrassing 
not  to  tip  the  servants. 

The  wind  gave  a  long  angry  shriek  as  it  flew  round 
the  corner  of  the  house  and  fastened  its  teeth  in  its 
enemies,  the  eucalyptus  trees;  who  shook  it  off  with  a 
loud  furious  rattle  of  their  leaves  and  slapped  the  win 
dow  severely  for  good  measure. 

Alexina  was  used  to  San  Francisco  in  all  her  many 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          133 

moods,  but  to-night,  the  wind  and  the  high  gray  fog 
shutting  out  the  stars,  the  silent  house — silent  that  is 
but  for  the  mice  playing  innocently  between  the  walls — 
her  complete  solitude,  made  her  restless  and  a  little 
nervous. 

What  could  she  do? 

She  knew  quite  well  that  she  had  wanted  to  go  to  see 
Gora  for  a  week.  She  had  not  indulged  in  any  silly 
dreams  about  Gathbroke  but  she  was  curious  to  see  his 
photograph.  She  remembered  that  it  had  crossed  her 
mind  that  April  day  under  the  oak  tree  that  if  he  had 
been  older,  if  he  had  outgrown  his  hopelessly  youthful 
curve  of  cheek,  his  fresh  color,  and  the  inability  to  con 
ceal  the  asinine  condition  to  which  she  had  immediately 
reduced  him,  she  might  have  given  him  an  equal  chance 
with  Morty. 

Aileen  had  said  that  he  looked  older.  She  had  a  quite 
natural  curiosity  to  decide  for  herself  if,  had  he  been 
born  several  years  earlier,  he  would  have  proved  the  suc 
cessful  rival  in  that  foundational  period  of  their  youth. 
...  Or  perhaps  she  was  the  reason  of  his  rather  sudden 
maturity.  After  all  there  was  no  great  chasm  between 
twenty-three  and  twenty-six  and  three-quarters.  She 
looked  little  if  any  older.  Neither  did  Morty,  nor  any 
one  she  knew. 

This  idea  thrilled  her,  and,  grimly  determined  upon 
no  compromise  or  evasion,  she  admitted  it. 

Moreover,  she  wanted  to  sound  out  Gora. 

Somehow  she  had  no  real  belief  that  he  had  trans 
ferred  his  affections  to  her  dissimilar  sister-in-law,  but 
her  interest  in  Gora  was  growing.  She  wanted  to  know 
her  better. 

Besides,  although  she  had  often  invited  her  to  tea  on 
her  free  afternoons,  and  to  dinner  whenever  possible, 
and  had  occasionally  dropped  in  to  see  her  while  she 
was  still  in  the  hospital,  she  had  never  called  on  her  in 
her  home.  As  Gora  only  slept  there  after  a  killing  day's 
or  night's  work,  visitors  were  anything  but  welcome; 
nevertheless  she  felt  that  she  had  been  negligent,  rude — 
three  years! — and  as  Gora  was  not  on  a  ease  for  a  day 
or  two,  now  was  the  time  to  atone. 

Moreover,  she  had  never  been  out  quite  alone  at  night, 


134          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

except  to  run  down  the  avenue  and  across  the  street  to 
Aileen's.  It  was  a  long  way  down  to  Geary  Street,  and 
Fillmore  Street  at  night  was  ' '  tough. ' '  Mortimer  would 
be  furious. 

She  hastily  changed  her  dinner  gown  to  a  plain  walk 
ing  suit  of  black  tweed  and  pinned  on  a  close  hat  firmly, 
prepared  to  defy  the  wind  and  thoroughly  to  enjoy  her 
little  adventure.  Not  since  she  had  stolen  out  to  go  to 
forbidden  parties  with  Aileen  had  she  felt  such  a  sense 
of  altogether  reprehensible  elation. 


CHAPTER  VI 


ILL/MORE  STREET,  its  low-browed  shops  dark, 
but  with  great  arcs  of  white  lights  spanning  the 
streets  that  ran  east  and  west,  long  shafts  of  yellow  light 
shining  across  the  sidewalk  from  the  restaurants,  the 
candy  stores  and  the  nicolodeons — where  the  pianola 
tinkled  plaintively — was  thronged  with  saunterers.  Alex- 
ina  darted  quick  curious  glances  at  them  as  she  walked 
rapidly  along.  In  front  of  every  saloon  was  a  group  of 
young  men  almost  fascinatingly  common  to  Alexina's 
cloistered  eyes,  their  hats  tilted  over  their  foreheads  at 
an  indescribable  angle,  rank  black  cigars  in  the  corners 
of  their  mouths,  or  cigarettes  hanging  from  their  loose 
lips,  leering  at  "  bunches "  of  girls  that  passed  un 
attended,  appraising  them  cynically,  making  strident  or 
stage-whispered  comments. 

A  great  many  girls  had  cavaliers,  and  these  walked 
with  their  heads  tossed,  unless  drooping  toward  a  padded 
shoulder;  and  they  wore  perhaps  a  coat  or  two  less  of 
make-up  than  their  still  neglected  sisters.  These  were 
vividly  carmined,  although  most  of  them  were  young 
enough  to  have  relied  on  cold  water  and  a  rough  towel-, 
their  hair  was  arranged  in  enormous  pompadours  and 
topped  with  '  *  lingerie ' '  or  beflowered  hats.  Their  blouses 
were  " peek-a-boo ' '  and  cut  low,  their  skirts  high;  slen- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          135 

der  or  plump,  they  wore  exaggerated  straight  front  cor 
sets,  high  heels  and  ventilated  stockings.  They  prac 
ticed  the  debutante  slouch  and  their  jaws  worked  auto 
matically. 

Not  all  of  them  were  "bad"  by  any  means.  Fillmore 
Street  was  a  promenade  at  night  for  girls  who  were  con 
fined  by  day :  waitresses,  shop  girls  of  the  humbler  sort, 
servants,  clerks,  or  younger  daughters  of  poor  parents, 
who  would  see  nothing  of  life  at  all  if  they  sat  virtuously 
in  the  kitchen  every  night. 

The  best  of  them  were  not  averse  to  being  picked  up 
and  treated  to  ice-cream-soda  or  the  more  delectable 
sundae.  A  few  there  were,  and  they  were  not  always  to 
be  distinguished  by  the  kohl  round  their  eyes,  the  dead 
white  of  their  cheeks,  the  magenta  of  their  lips,  who, 
ignoring  the  "bums"  and  "cadets"  lounging  at  the 
corners  or  before  the  saloons,  directed  intent  long 
glances  at  every  passing  man  who  looked  as  if  he  had 
the  "roll"  to  treat  them  handsomely  in  the  back  parlor 
of  a  saloon,  or  possibly  stake  them  at  a  gaming  table. 
The  town,  still  in  its  brief  period  of  insufferable  virtue, 
was  "closed,"  but  the  lid  was  not  on  as  irremovably  as 
the  police  led  the  good  mayor  to  believe ;  and  these  girls, 
who  traveled  not  in  ' '  bunches ' '  but  in  pairs,  if  they  had 
not  already  begun  a  career  of  profitable  vice,  were 
anxious  to  start  but  did  not  exactly  know  how.  Fill- 
more  Street  was  not  the  hunting  ground  of  rich  men; 
but  men  with  a  night's  money  came  there,  and  many 
"boobs"  from  the  country. 

Alexina  had  heard  of  Fillmore  Street  from  Aileen, 
who  investigated  everything,  escorted  by  her  uxorious 
parent,  and  had  been  informed  that  many  of  these  girls 
were  "decent  enough";  "much  more  decent  than  I 
would  be  in  the  circumstances:  work  all  day,  coarse 
underclothes,  no  place  to  see  a  beau  but  the  street.  I'd 
go  straight  to  the  devil  and  play  the  only  game  I  had 
for  all  it  was  worth. ' ' 

But  to  Alexina  they  all  looked  appalling,  abandoned, 
the  last  cry  in  "badness."  She  was  not  afraid.  The 
street  was  too  brilliant  and  the  great  juggernauts  of 
trolley  cars  lumbered  by  every  few  moments.  Moreover, 


136          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

she  could  make  herself  look  as  cold  and  remote  as  the 
stars  above  the  fog,  and  she  had  drawn  herself  up  to 
her  full  five  feet  seven,  thrown  her  shoulders  back,  lifted 
her  chin  and  lowered  her  eyelids  the  merest  trifle.  She 
fancied  that  the  patrician-beauty  type  would  have  little 
or  no  attraction  for  the  men  who  frequented  Fillmore 
Street.  Certainly  the  bluntest  of  these  males  could  see 
that  she  was  not  painted,  blackened,  dyed,  nor  chewing 
gum. 

Moreover  she  was  in  mourning. 

But  she  had  reckoned  without  her  youth. 


ii 

1  Say,  kid,  what  you  doin '  all  alone  ? ' ' 

A  hand  passed  familiarly  through  her  arm. 

Her  brain  turned  somersaults,  raced.  Should  she 
burst  into  tears?  Turn  upon  him  with  a  frozen  stare? 
Appeal  for  help  ? 

Then  she  discovered  that  although  astonished  she  was 
not  at  all  terrified ;  nor  very  much  insulted.  Why  should 
she  be?  A  casual  remark  of  the  sophisticated  Aileen 
flashed  through  her  rallying  mind:  "When  a  man  is 
even  half  way  drunk  he  doesn't  know  a  lady  from  a 
trollop,  and  ten  to  one  the  lady 's  a  trollop  anyhow. ' ' 

She  heartily  wished  that  Aileen  were  in  her  predica 
ment  at  the  present  moment.  What  on  earth  was  she  to 
do  with  the  creature  ? 

She  had  accelerated  her  steps  without  speaking  or 
making  any  foolish  attempts  to  shake  him  off;  but  she 
knew  that  her  face  was  crimson,  and  one  girl  tittered  as 
they  passed,  while  another,  appreciating  the  situation, 
laughed  aloud  and  cried  after  her:  "Don't  be  fright 
ened,  kid.  He 's  not  a  slaver. ' ' 

Irrepressible  curiosity  made  her  send  him  a  swift 
glance  from  the  corner  of  her  eye.  He  was  a  young 
man,  thick  set,  with  an  aggressive  nose  set  in  a  round 
hard  face.  His  small,  hard,  black  eyes  were  steady,  and 
so  were  his  feet.  He  did  not  look  in  the  least  drunk. 

' '  I  think  you  have  made  a  mistake, ' '  she  said  quietly, 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          137 

and  with  no  pretense  at  immense  dignity  (she  could 
hear  Aileen  say:  "Cut  it  out.  Nothing  doing  in  that 
line  here").  "I,  also,  have  made  a  mistake — in  walking 
at  night  on  this  street.  Would  you  mind  letting  go  my 
arm  ?  I  think  I  '11  take  a  car. ' ' 

' '  No,  I  think  you  '11  stay  just  where  you  are, ' '  he  said 
insolently.  * '  You  don 't  belong  here  all  right,  but  you  've 
come  and  you  can  stand  the  consequences.  You're  just 
the  sort  that  needs  a  jolt  and  I  like  the  idea  of  hand 
ing  it." 

Alexina  gave  him  a  coldly  speculative  glance.  "I 
wonder  why?" 

"You  would?  Well,  I'll  tell  you.  Never  been  out 
alone  at  night  before,  I  '11  bet,  like  these  other  girls,  that 
ain't  got  no  place  on  earth  to  have  any  fun  but  the 
streets.  Never  even  rubbed  against  the  common  herd? 
Generally  go  about  in  a  machine,  don 't  you  ? ' ' 

"It  is  quite  true  that  I  have  never  been  out  alone  at 
night  before.  I  certainly  shall  not  go  again." 

"No,  you  don't  have  to!  That's  the  point,  all  right. 
And  if  you  weren't  such  a  beauty,  damn  you!  I'd  hate 
you  this  minute  as  I  hate  your  whole  parasite  class. ' ' 

"Oh,  you  are  a  socialist!"  Alexina  looked  at  him 
with  frank  curiosity.  ' '  I  never  saw  one  before. ' ' 

He  was  obviously  disconcerted.  Then  his  face  flushed 
with  anger.  "Yes,  I'm  a  socialist  all  right,  and  you'll 
see  more  of  us  before  you're  many  years  older." 

1  '  You  might  tell  me  about  it  if  you  will  walk  with  me. 
I  am  a  long  way  from  my  destination,  and  that  would  be 
far  more  interesting  than  personalities." 

"I've  got  more  personalities  where  those  came  from. 
It  makes  me  sick  to  see  the  difference  between  you  and 
these  poor  kids — ready  to  sell  their  souls  for  pretty 
clothes  and  a  little  fun.  There's  nothing  that  has  done 
so  much  to  inflame  class  hatred  as  the  pampered  delicate 
satin-skinned  women  of  your  class,  who  have  expensive 
clothes  and  ' grooming'  to  take  the  place  of  slathers  of 
paint  and  cheap  perfume.  Raised  in  a  hot  house  for 
the  use  of  the  man  on  top.  It 's  the  crowning  offense  of 
capitalism,  and  when  the  system  goes,  they'll  all  be  like 
you,  or  you'll  be  more  like  them.  You'll  come  down 


138          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

about  a  thousand  pegs,  and  the  ones  down  below  will  be 
shoved  up  to  meet  you. ' ' 

Alexina  stood  still  and  faced  him. 

* '  Are  you  poor  ? ' '  she  asked. 

"What  a  hell  of  a  question.  Have  I  been  talkin'  like 
a  plutocrat  ? ' ' 

' '  Oh,  there  are,  still,  different  grades.  I  was  wonder 
ing  if  you  would  be  so  inconsistent  as  to  earn  a  little 
money  from  me  and  two  friends  of  mine.  We  have  read 
socialism  a  bit,  but  we  don't  understand  it  very  well. 
I  am  in  mourning  and  it  would  interest  me  immensely." 

He  had  dropped  her  arm  and  was  staring  at  her. 

"You  are  not  afraid  of  me,  then?"  His  voice  was 
sulky  but  his  eyes  were  less  hostile. 

"Oh,  not  in  the  least.  I  fully  appreciate  that  you 
merely  wished  to  humiliate  me,  not  to  be  insulting,  as 
some  of  these  other  men  might  have  been.  My  name  is 
Mrs.  Mortimer  Dwight.  I  live  on  Ballinger  Hill— do 
you  know  it  ?  That  old  house  in  the  eucalyptus  grove  ? ' ' 

"I  know  it,  all  right." 

"Then  you  probably  know,  also,  that  I  am  not  rich 
and  never  have  been.  My  husband  is  a  struggling  young 
business  man." 

"That  cuts  no  ice.  You  train  with  that  class,  don't 
you  ?  You  're  class  yourself,  reek  with  it.  You  had  rich 
ancestors  or  you  wouldn  't  be  what  you  are  now. ' ' 

"Well,  we  can  discuss  that  point  another  time.  One 
of  my  friends  is  a  daughter  of  Judge  Lawton " 

1  i  Hand  in  glove  with  every  rich  grafter  in  'Frisco. ' ' 

Alexina  shuddered.  "Please  say  San  Francisco.  I 
am  positive  you  never  heard  a  word  against  Judge  Law- 
ton 's  probity,  nor  that  he  ever  rendered  an  unjust  de 
cision." 

"He's  a  wise  old  guy,  all  right.  But  it  would  be 
wastin'  time  tryin'  to  make  you  understand  why  I  have 
no  use  for  him. ' ' 

1 '  Of  course  you  would  have  no  use  for  the  husband  of 
my  other  friend,  Mrs.  Frank  Bascom. ' ' 

She  fully  expected  that  the  young  millionaire's  name 
would  be  the  final  red  rag  and  that  her  escort  would  roar 
his  opinion  of  him  for  the  benefit  of  all  Fillmore  Street. 
But  he  surprised  her  by  saying  reluctantly : 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          139 

"He's  dead  straight,  all  right.  He's  not  a  grafter. 
I've  nothing  against  him  personally,  but  he's  part  of  a 
damnable  system  and  I'd  clean  him  out  with  the  rest." 

* '  Well,  there  you  have  three  of  us  to  your  hand.  Who 
knows  but  that  you  might  convert  us  ?  Why  not  give  us 
the  chance?  If  you  will  give  me  your  address  I  will 
write  to  you  as  soon  as  my  friends  come  back  to  town." 

"I  don't  know  whether  I  want  to  do  it  or  not.  You 
may  be  makin '  game  of  me  for  all  I  know. ' ' 

"I  am  quite  sincere.  You  interest  me  immensely. 
And  we  might  teach  you  something  too — what  it  means 
to  have  a  sense  of  humor.  I  know  enough  of  socialism 
to  know  that  no  socialist  can  have  it.  May  I  ask  what 
your  occupation  is  ? " 

"I'm  just  a  plain  working-man — housebuilding  line." 

1 '  Then  you  could  only  come  in  the  evening  ? ' ' 

"Not  at  all;  I  get  off  at  five.  You  don't  have  your 
dinner  until  eight  in  your  set,  I  believe."  This  with  a 
sneer  that  curled  his  upper  lip  almost  to  the  septum  of 
his  nose. 

"Seven.  My  husband  works  until  nearly  six.  He 
rarely  has  time  for  lunch  and  comes  home  very  hungry. ' ' 

Once  more  he  looked  puzzled  and  disconcerted,  but  his 
small  steady  eyes  did  not  waver. 

1  *  My  name 's  James  Kirkpatrick. ' '  He  found  the  stub 
of  a  pencil  in  his  pocket  and  wrote  an  address  on  the 
flap  of  an  envelope.  "I'll  think  it  over.  Maybe  I'll  do 
it.  I  dunno,  though." 

"I  do  hope  you  will.  I'm  sure  we  can  learn  a  good 
deal  from  each  other.  Now,  would  you  mind  putting  me 
on  the  next  car?  Or  don't  the  socialist  tenets  admit  of 
gallantry  to  my  sex  ? ' ' 

' l  Socialism  admits  the  equality  of  the  sexes,  which  is  a 
long  sight  better,  but  I  guess  there 's  nothing  to  prevent 
me  seeing  you  onto  your  car." 

He  even  lifted  his  hat  as  she  turned  to  him  from  the 
high  platform,  and  as  he  smiled  a  little  she  inferred  that 
he  was  congratulating  himself  on  having  had  the  last 
word. 


140  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  VII 


ORA,  to  whom  she  had  telephoned  before  leaving 
home,  was  standing  on  the  steps  of  her  house,  look 
ing  anxiously  up  the  street,  as  her  young  sister-in-law 
left  the  car  at  the  corner. 

Gora  walked  up  to  meet  her  guest.  "Where  on  earth 
have  you  been  ? ' '  she  demanded.  ' '  I  supposed  of  course 
that  you'd  take  a  taxi.  You  should  not  go  out  alone  at 
night.  Mortimer  would  be  wild.  He  has  the  strictest 
ideas;  and  you " 

"Haven't.  Not  any  more.  I'm  tired  of  being  kept 
in  a  glass  case — being  a  parasite."  She  laughed  gayly 
at  Gora's  look  of  amazement.  "I've  had  an  adventure. 
Almost  the  first  I  ever  had." 

She  related  it  as  they  walked  slowly  down  the  street 
and  up  the  steps  and  stairs  to  the  attic. 

Gora  looked  very  thoughtful  as  she  listened.  "Shall 
you  tell  Mortimer?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Possibly  not.  Why  agitate  him ? 
The  thing  is  done. ' ' 

"But  if  you  study  with  this  man?" 

"There  is  no  necessity  to  explain  where  I  met  him. 
I  look  upon  myself  as  Morty's  partner,  not  as  his  sub 
ject.  We  have  never  disputed  over  anything  yet,  but 
of  course  as  time  goes  on  I  shall  wish  to  do  many  things 
whether  he  happens  to  like  it  or  not.  Possibly  without 
consulting  him." 

"You've  had  time  to  think  these  past  three  months 
for  the  first  time  in  your  life,"  said  Gora  shrewdly. 
1 '  Here  we  are.  I  hope  you  don 't  hate  stairs.  I  do  when 
I  come  home  dog-tired,  but  somehow  I  can't  give  up  the 
old  place.  .  .  .  And  I  've  lit  the  candles  in  your  honor. ' ' 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          141 

n 

1 '  Oh,  but  it  is  pretty !    Charming ! ' ' 

Thought  Gora:  "I  do  hope  she's  not  going  to  be 
gracious.  I  've  never  liked  her  so  well  before. ' ' 

But  Alexina  was  too  excited  to  have  a  firm  grip  on 
the  Ballinger-Groome  tradition.  She  had  had  an  adven 
ture,  an  uncommon  one,  in  a  far  from  respectable  night 
district;  she  had  done  something  that  would  cause  the 
impeccable  Mortimer  the  acutest  anguish  if  he  knew  of 
it ;  and  she  had  caught  sight  immediately  of  Gathbroke  's 
picture  framed  and  enthroned  on  the  mantelpiece. 

She  walked  about  the  room  admiring  the  hangings 
and  prints,  the  old  Chinese  lanterns  that  held  the 
candles. 

"I  am  going  to  refurnish  our  lower  rooms/7  she  said. 
* '  If  you  have  time  do  help  me.  Heavens !  I  wish  I  could 
work  off  some  of  that  old  furniture  on  you.  I  like  the 
Italian  pieces  well  enough,  but  there  are  too  many  of 
them.  That  rather  low  Florentine  cabinet  in  the  back 
parlor  would  just  fit  in  this  corner.  .  .  ." 

She  gave  a  little  girlish  exclamation  and  ran  forward. 

" Isn't  that  young  Gathbroke,  who  was  out  here  at  the 
time  of  the  earthquake  and  fire  ...  or  an  older  brother, 
perhaps?" 

She  had  taken  the  photograph  from  the  mantel  and 
was  examining  it  under  one  of  the  lanterns.  Her  alert 
ear  detected  the  deeper  and  less  steady  note  in  Gora's 
always  hoarse  voice. 

"It  is  the  same.  Did  you  meet  him?  .  .  .  Oh,  I  re 
member  he  told  me  he  met  you  at  the  Hofer  ball.  He 
rather  raved  over  you,  in  fact." 

' l  Did  he  ?  How  sweet  of  him.  I  met  him  again,  I  re 
member.  Mr.  Gwynne  brought  him  down  to  Rincona 
one  day." 

"Oh?" 

And  Alexina  knew  that  he  had  never  mentioned  that 
visit. 

"But  he  looks  much  much  older." 

"He  did  before  he  left.  That  horrible  experience  of 
his  seemed  to  prey  on  him  more  and  more. 


142  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

"Oh." 

He  had  not  looked  a  day  over  twenty-three  on  that 
afternoon  at  Rincona,  two  weeks  after  the  fire. 

Alexina  replaced  the  picture,  then  turned  to  her  sister- 
in-law  with  a  coaxing  smile.  "Are  you  engaged?  It 
would  be  too  romantic.  Do  tell  me." 

"No,"  said  Gora,  shortly.  "We  are  not  engaged. 
Good  friends,  that  is  all,  and  write  occasionally." 

"Well,  he  must  be  very  much  interested — and  you 
must  be  a  very  interesting  correspondent,  Gora  dear! 
Is  he  ?  Interesting,  I  mean.  What  does  he  do,  anyhow  ? 
I  have  a  vague  remembrance  that  he  said  something  about 
the  army." 

' '  He  was  in  the  army,  the  Grenadier  Guards.  But  he 
has  resigned  and  gone  into  business  with  a  cousin  of  his 
in  Lancashire.  He  wrote  me — oh,  it  must  be  nearly  two 
years  ago — that  if  there  should  be  a  war  he  would  enlist 
as  a  matter  of  course,  but  as  there  was  no  prospect  of 
any,  and  he  was  sick  of  idleness — his  good  middle-class 
energetic  blood  asserting  itself,  he  said, — he  was  going 
to  amuse  himself  with  work,  incidentally  try  to  make  a 
fortune.  His  mother  left  a  good  deal  of  money,  but 
there  are  several  children  and  I  guess  the  present  earl 
needs  most  of  it  to  keep  up  his  estates,  to  say  nothing 
of  his  position.  Rotten  law,  that — entail,  I  mean." 

Alexina  came  and  sat  down  on  the  divan  beside  Gora, 
piling  the  cushions  behind  her.  "Are  you  a  socialist?" 

"I  am  not.  I  believe  in  sticking  to  your  own  class, 
whether  you  have  a  grudge  against  it  or  not,  or  even  if 
you  think  it  far  from  perfection. ' ' 

She  shot  a  quick  challenging  glance  at  her  admittedly 
aristocratic  sister-in-law,  but  Alexina  had  lifted  the 
lower  white  of  her  eyes  just  above  their  soft  black  fringe 
and  looked  more  innocent  than  any  new  born  lamb.  As 
she  did  not  answer  Gora  continued : 

"I  remember  that  night  I  sat  out  with  Gathbroke  on 
Calvary  he  said  something  about  socialism  .  .  .  that  it 
was  a  confession  of  failure.  I  may  feel  so  furious  with 
destiny  sometimes  that  I  could  go  out  and  wave  a  red 
flag,  or  even  the  darker  red  of  anarchy,  but  what  always 
sobers  me  is  the  thought  that  if  I  had  the  good  luck  to 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          143 

inherit  or  make  even  a  reasonable  fortune  I'd  have  no 
more  use  for  socialism  than  for  a  rattlesnake  in  my  bed. 
Why  are  you  interested?" 

"Only  as  in  any  subject  that  interests  a  few  million 
people.  I  haven 't  the  least  intention  of  being  converted, 
but  I  don't  want  to  be  an  ignoramus.  Aileen  and  Sibyl 
and  I  did  start  Marx's  Das  Kapital — in  German!  We 
nearly  died  of  it.  But  I  felt  sure  that  this  man,  Kirk- 
patrick,  had  studied  his  subject,  if  only  because  his 
language  changed  so  completely  when  he  talked  about 
it.  It  was  as  if  he  were  quoting,  but  intelligently.  Of 
course  the  poor  man  had  little  or  no  education  to  begin 
with.  Somehow  he  struck  me  as  a  pathetic  figure.  Per 
haps  when  every  one  is  educated — and  there  must  be 
many  thousands  of  naturally  intelligent  men  in  the 
working  class  whose  brains  if  trained  would  be  mighty 
useful  in  Washington — well,  all  having  had  equal  oppor 
tunities  they  would  surely  arrive  at  some  way  to  im 
prove  conditions  without  struggling  for  anything  so 
hopeless  as  socialism.  I  know  enough  to  be  sure  that  it  is 
hopeless,  because  it  antagonizes  human  nature. ' ' 

"Bather.  The  trend  under  all  the  talk  is  more  and 
more  toward  individualism,  not  self-effacing  communism. 
As  for  myself  I  like  the  idea  of  the  fight — for  public 
recognition,  I  mean;  and  I  don't  think  I'd  be  happy  at 
all  if  things  were  made  too  smooth  for  me;  if,  for  in 
stance,  in  a  socialized  state  it  were  decided  that  I  could 
devote  all  my  time  to  writing,  and  that  the  state  would 
take  care  of  me,  publish  my  work,  and  distribute  it 
exactly  where  it  was  sure  to  be  appreciated.  I  haven't 
any.  of  the  old  California  gambling  blood  in  me,  but  I 
guess  the  hardy  ghost  of  those  old  days  still  dominates 
the  atmosphere,  and  I  have  not  been  one  of  those  to 
escape." 

"  It 's  in  mine !  Not  that  I  care  for  gambling,  really, 
like  Aileen  and  Alice.  But  I've  always  been  fascinated 
by  the  idea  of  taking  long  chances,  and  I  have  had 
inklings  that  I'll  be  rather  more  than  less  fascinated  as 
I  grow  older.  .  .  .  When  are  your  stories  to  be  pub 
lished?  I  am  simply  expiring  to  read  them." 

"Are  you?" 


144          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

III 

Alexina  had  thrust  her  slim  index  finger  unerringly 
through  Gora's  bristling  armor  and  tickled  her  weakest 
spot.  The  fledgling  author  smiled  into  the  dazzling  eyes 
opposite  and  a  deep  flush  rose  to  her  high  cheek  bones. 

"Rather!" 

"Then  .  .  ."  Gora  rose  and  took  a  magazine  from 
the  table  beside  her  bed.  She  spread  it  open  on  her  lap, 
when  she  had  resumed  her  seat,  and  handled  it  as  Alexina 
had  seen  young  mothers  fondle  their  first-born. 

"It's  here.    Just  out." 

* '  Oh ! ' '  Alexina  gave  a  little  shriek  of  genuine  antici 
pation.  "Bead  it  to  me.  Quick.  I  can't  wait." 

Gora  led  a  lonely  life  outside  of  her  work,  a  lonely 
inner  life  always.  She  had  never  had  an  intimate  friend, 
and  she  suddenly  reflected  that  there  had  been  a  certain 
measure  of  sadness  in  her  joy  both  when  her  manuscripts 
were  accepted  and  to-day  when  for  the  first  time  she 
had  gazed  at  herself  in  print.  .  .  .  She  had  had  no  one 
to  rejoice  with  her.  .  .  .  She  felt  an  overwhelming  sense 
of  gratitude  to  Alexina. 

But  she  gave  this  young  wife  of  her  brother  whom  she 
knew  as  little  as  Alexina  knew  her,  another  swift  sus 
picious  glance.  .  .  .  No,  there  was  nothing  of  Alexina 's 
usual  high  and  careless  courtesy  in  that  eager  almost 
excited  face. 

"I'd  love  to  have  your  opinion.  ...  I  read  very 
badly.  .  .  .  Make  allowances.  ..." 

"Oh,  fire  away.  If  I'd  written  a  story  and  had  it 
accepted  by  that  magazine  I'd  read  it  from  the  house 
tops." 

Gora  read  the  story  well  enough,  and  Alexina 's  mind 
did  not  wander  even  to  Gathbroke.  It  was  written  in  a 
pure  direct  vigorous  English.  A  little  less  self-con 
sciousness  and  it  would  have  been  distinguished.  The 
story  itself  was  built  craftily;  she  had  been  coached  by 
a  clever  instructor  who  was  a  successful  writer  of  short 
stories  himself ;  and  it  worked  up  to  a  climax  of  genuine 
drama.  But  this  was  merely  the  framework,  the  flexible 
technique  for  the  real  Gora.  The  story  had  not  only  an 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  145 

original  point  of  view  but  it  pulsed  with  the  insurgent 
resentful  passionate  spirit  of  the  writer. 

Alexina  gave  a  little  gasp  as  Gora  finished. 

"Many  people  won't  like  that  story/'  she  said.  "It 
shocks  and  jars  and  gives  one's  smugness  a  pain  in  the 
middle.  But  those  that  do  like  it  will  give  you  a  great 
reputation,  and  after  all  there  are  a  few  thousand  in 
telligent  readers  in  the  United  States.  How  on  earth 
did  that  magazine  come  to  accept  it?" 

Gora  was  staring  at  Alexina  with  an  uncommonly  soft 
expression  in  her  opaque  light  eyes.  She  felt,  indeed, 
as  if  her  ego  would  leap  through  them  and  make  a  fool 
of  her. 

"The  editor  wrote  me  something  of  what  you  have 
just  said.  He  wanted  something  new — to  give  his  con 
servative  old  subscribers  a  shock.  Thought  it  would  be 
good  for  them  and  for  the  magazine.  You — you — have 
said  what  I  should  have  wanted  you  to  say  if  I  could 
have  thought  it  out.  ...  I  think  I  should  have  hated 
you  if  you  had  said,  'How  charming!'  or  'How  franti 
cally  interesting ! '  : 

"Well,  it's  the  last  if  not  the  first.  Aileen  will  say 
that  and  mean  it.  Ill  telephone  to  the  bookstore  the 
first  thing  Monday  morning  and  get  a  copy.  Now  I  must 
go.  It 'slate." 

IV 

"Let  me  telephone  for  a  taxi." 

Alexina  laughed  merrily.  "You'll  never  believe  it, 
but  I've  just  thirty  cents  in  my  purse.  I  forgot  to  ask 
Morty  for  something  before  he  left.  .  .  .  You  see,  I 
happened  to  find  quite  a  bit  in  mother's  desk  and  so 
I've  never  thought  to  ask  him  for  an  allowance.  But 
I  shall  at  once." 

' '  An  allowance  ?  But  you  have  your  own  money  ?  Or 
is  it  because  the  estate  isn't  settled?  What  has  Morty 
to  do  with  that?" 

"I  believe  we  get  the  income  from  the  estate  until  it 
is  settled.  But  I  gave  my  power  of  attorney  to  Morty." 

"Oh!  But  if  there  is  money  on  deposit  in  the  bank 
you  can  draw  on  it." 


146  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

'  *  Could  I  ?  Well !  I  '11  just  draw  a  round  hundred  on 
Monday  at  ten  A.  M." 

"Why  did  you  give  your  power  of  attorney  to 
Morty?" 

"Oh  .  .  .  why  ...  he  asked  me  to  ...  I  know 
nothing  about  business,  and  he  naturally  would  attend 
to  my  affairs." 

"But  you  are  not  going  away.  No  one  needs  your 
power  of  attorney.  And  the  executors  are  Judge  Law- 
ton  and  Mr.  Abbott.  You  are  here  to  sign  such  papers 
as  they  advise.  .  .  .  Don't  be  angry,  please.  I  am  not 
insinuating  anything  against  Morty.  He's  never  had  a 
dishonest  thought  in  his  life  .  .  .  has  always  been  the 
squarest  .  .  .  but  ..." 

"Well?" 

Alexina's  head  was  very  high.  It  was  quite  bad  enough 
for  Tom  Abbott  and  Judge  Lawton  .  .  .  but  for  his 
sister  .  .  . 

"It's  this  way,  Alexina.  People  in  this  world,  more 
particularly  men,  are  just  about  as  honest  as  circum 
stances  will  permit  them  to  be.  Some  are  stronger  than 
Life  in  one  way  or  another,  no  doubt  of  it;  but  they 
make  up  for  it  by  being  weaker  in  others.  ...  I  am 
talking  particularly  of  the  money  question,  the  struggle 
for  existence,  which  the  vast  majority  of  men  are  forced 
to  make.  .  .  . 

' '  Men  fight  Life  from  the  hour  they  leave  their  homes, 
when  they  have  any,  to  force  success — in  one  way  or 
another — out  of  her  until  the  hour  they  are  able  to  lay 
down  the  burden.  .  .  .  Some  are  too  strong  and  too  firm 
in  their  ideals  ever  to  do  wrong ;  they  would  prefer  fail 
ure,  and  generally  they  are  strong  enough  to  avoid  it, 
even  to  succeed  in  their  way  against  the  most  overwhelm 
ing  odds.  .  .  .  Many  are  too  clever  not  to  find  some  way 
of  compromising  and  circumventing.  .  .  .  Others  just 
peg  along  and  barely  make  both  ends  meet.  .  .  .  Others 
go  under  and  down  and  out. 

"Morty,  like  millions  of  other  young  Americans,  had 
good  principles  and  high  ideals  inculcated  from  his 
earliest  boyhood  and  took  to  them  as  a  duck  takes  to 
water.  Nor  is  he  weak.  But  although  he  is  a  hard  and 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  147 

steady  worker  he  is  also  visionary.  He  speculated  on 
the  stock  market  before  he  was  married.  Probably  not 
now  as  the  market  is  moribund.  He  is  frantic  to  get 
rich  .  .  .  for  more  reasons  than  one." 

' '  But  he  never  would  do  anything  dishonorable. ' ' 

4 'No.  Nothing  he  couldn't  square  with  his  conscience 
if  it  turned  out  all  right.  But  the  most  honest  man, 
when  in  a  hole,  finds  little  difficulty  in  arriving  at  the 
conclusion  that  what  is,  illogically,  the  possession  of  the 
women  of  his  family,  is  his  if  he  needs  it. 

"  Moreover,  no  doubt  you  have  discovered  that  Morty 
is  the  sort  of  man  who  looks  upon  women  as  man's  nat 
ural  inferiors,  that  if  there  is  any  question  of  sacrifice 
the  woman  is  not  to  be  considered  for  a  moment  .  .  . 
especially  where  no  public  risk  is  involved.  That  sort 
of  man  only  thinks  he  is  too  honest  to  refrain  from 
taking  some  unrelated  woman's  money,  but  as  a  matter 
of  fact  it  is  because  she  would  send  him  to  State 's  Prison 
as  readily  as  a  man  would.  One's  own  women  are  safe. 

"I  lent  Morty  my  small  inheritance  with  my  eyes 
open.  But  he  knows  a  good  deal  of  that  particular  busi 
ness,  and  I  did  not  dream  the  times  were  going  to  be  so 
bad.  ...  1  doubt  if  I  ever  see  it  again.  .  .  .  But  you 
must  not  run  the  risk  of  losing  yours.  I  want  you  to 
promise  me  that  on  Monday  morning  you  will  go  down 
to  the  City  Hall  and  revoke  your  power  of  attorney. 
And  as  much  for  Morty 's  sake  as  for  your  own.  He 
will  lose  your  money  if  he  keeps  it  in  his  hands,  and 
then  he  will  suffer  agonies  of  remorse.  He  will  be  in 
finitely  more  miserable  than  if  he  merely  failed  in  busi 
ness.  That  is  honorable.  It  would  only  hurt  his  pride. 
Then  he  could  get  a  position  again,  and  you  would  have 
your  own  income. ' ' 

"But  do  you  mean  to  say  that  if  I  did  revoke  my 
power  of  attorney  and  he  asked  me  later  for  money  to 
save  his  business  that  I  should  not  give  it  to  him  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  I  mean  just  that.  Morty  will  never  take  any 
of  the  prizes  in  the  business  world.  He  may  hold  on 
and  make  a  living,  that  is  all.  He  has  plenty  to  start 
with,  and  tells  me  he  is  doing  fairly  well,  in  spite  of  the 
times.  But  he  would  do  better  in  the  long  run  as  a 


148          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

clerk.  In  time  he  might  get  a  large  salary  as  a  sort  of 
general  director  of  all  the  routine  business  of  some  large 
house— — " 

Alexina  curled  her  lip.  "I  do  not  want  him  to  be  a 
clerk. " 

"No,  of  course  you  don't!  But  you'd  like  it  still  less 
if  he  cleaned  you  out.  You  would  have  to  sell  or  rent 
your  old  home  and  live  on  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
a  month  in  a  flat  in  some  out-of-the-way  quarter.  You 
might  have  to  go  to  work  yourself. ' ' 

"I  shouldn't  mind  that  so  much,  except  that  I'm 
afraid  I'd  not  be  good  for  much.  Perhaps  it  was  snob 
bish  of  me  to  object  to  Morty 's  being  a  clerk.  But  .  .  . 
well,  I'm  not  so  sure  that  it  is  snobbish  to  prefer  what 
you  have  always  been  accustomed  to — I  mean  if  it  is  a 
higher  standard.  And  after  all  I  married  him  when  he 
was  only  a  clerk." 

"You  are  surprisingly  little  of  a  snob,  all  things  con 
sidered;  but  you  are  a  hopeless  aristocrat." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"I  think  the  line  between  the  aristocratic  and  the 
snobbish  attitude  of  mind  is  almost  too  fine  to  be  put 
into  words.  But  they  are  often  confused  by  the  undis- 
criminating.  Will  you  revoke  that  power  of  attorney  on 
Monday?" 

"Shouldn't  I  wait  until  Morty  is  home?  .  .  .  tell  him 
first  ?  It  seems  rather  taking  an  advantage  .  .  .  and  he 
will  be  very  angry. ' ' 

"That  doesn't  matter." 

"What  excuse  shall  I  give  him?" 

"Any  one  of  a  dozen.  You  are  bored  and  want  to 
take  care  of  your  money  .  .  .  intend  to  learn  something 
of  business,  as  all  women  should,  and  will  in  time.  .  .  . 
Ring  in  the  feminist  stuff  .  .  .  wife's  economic  inde 
pendence  .  .  .  woman's  new  position  in  the  world.  .  .  . 
That  will  make  Morty  so  raving  angry  that  he  will  forget 
about  the  other.  Will  you  do  it?" 

"Yes,  I  will.  I  believe  you  are  right.  So  were  the 
others  .  .  .  there  must  be  something  in  it. ' ' 

She  told  Gora  of  the  advice  of  Tom  Abbott  and  Judge 
Lawton.  Gora  nodded. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  149 

"They  meant  more  than  they  said.  And  merely  be 
cause  they  are  men  of  the  world,  not  because  they  like 
and  trust  Morty  any  the  less. ' ' 

Alexina  did  not  hear  her.  She  was  staring  hard  at  the 
floor.  ...  A  year  ago  .  .  .  three  months  ago  .  .  .  she 
couldn  't  have  done  this  thing.  She  had  been  still  under 
the  illusion  that  she  loved  her  husband,  that  her  mar 
riage  was  a  complete  success.  She  would  have  sacrificed 
her  last  penny  rather  than  hurt  his  feelings.  Now  she 
only  cared  that  she  didn't  care.  .  .  .  She  had  admitted 
to  herself  that  she  did  not  love  her  husband  but  that  was 
different  from  committing  an  overt  act  that  proved  it. 
.  .  .  She  felt  something  crumbling  within  her.  ...  It 
was  the  last  of  the  fairy  edifice  of  her  romance  ...  of 
her  first,  her  real,  youth.  .  .  .  What  was  to  take  its 
place?  The  future  smugly  secure  on  six  thousand  a 
year  and  an  inviolate  social  position  ...  a  good  dull 
husband  .  .  .  not  even  the  prospect  of  travel.  .  .  . 


She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  turned  away  her  head. 

"Why  don't  you  come  and  live  with  us?"  she  asked 
abruptly.  "Why  should  you  keep  this  on?  There  are 
so  many  vacant  bedrooms  up  there.  You  could  have  one 
for  your  study.  I'd  love  to  have  you.  You'd  have  the 
most  complete  independence.  Do. ' ' 

Gora  shook  her  head.  "I've  always  this  to  fall  back 
on." 

"Fall  back  on?" 

"Oh!  I  never  meant  to  let  that  out.  However.  .  .  . 
Perhaps  it  is  as  well.  .  .  .  Morty — you  know  his  pride 
— everybody  has  his  prime  weakness  and  that  is  his. 
Transpose  it  into  snobbery  if  you  like.  .  .  .  We  did  not 
board  down  here.  I  kept  a  lodging  house  for  business 
women.  It  paid  well,  but  Morty,  when  he  became  en 
gaged  to  you,  insisted  that  I  give  it  up.  He  was  afraid 
you'd  be  outraged  in  your  finest  sensibilities!  Well, 
I  did.  One  of  my  lodgers  resigned  from  her  job  and 
took  it  over.  I  entered  the  hospital,  but  kept  on  my 
room  as  I  had  to  have  one  somewhere.  Eight  months 


150          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

later  she  married,  and  I  took  it  back.  I  found  I  could 
run  it  as  well  as  ever  with  the  aid  of  a  treasure  of  a 
Chinaman  she  had  discovered.  But  I  never  told  Morty." 

Alexina  laughed.  ' '  Better  not.  But  you  could  run  it 
and  live  with  us  all  the  same." 

' '  No.  I  have  too  little  time.  I  'd  waste  it  coming  back 
and  forth,  for  I  must  be  here  some  time  every  day.  .  .  . 
Besides  ..." 

''Your  own  precious  atmosphere?" 

' '  You  do  understand ! ' ' 

"Well,  come  to  see  me  often.  I  shall  need  your 
advice. ' ' 

"You  bet.  And  now,  I'll  see  you  to  your  car;  stay 
with  you  until  you  are  safely  transferred  to  the  Fillmore 
car.  And  don't  assert  your  independence  in  just  this 
way  again.  All  those  loafers  on  Fillmore  Street  are  not 
spiteful  socialists." 

As  Gora  put  on  her  hat  at  the  distant  mirror  Alexina 
turned  to  Gathbroke's  picture  with  a  scowl.  She  even 
clenched  her  hands  into  fists. 

"Oh  .  .  .  you  .  .  .  you.  .  .  .  Why  weren't  you  .  .  . 
Why  didn't  you  ..." 


CHAPTER  VIII 


TV/fORTIMER  arrived  on  Tuesday  evening,  looking 
*  •*•  immaculate  in  spite  of  his  day  on  the  train,  and 
with  that  air  of  beaming  gallantry  that  he  could  always 
summon  at  will,  even  when  all  was  not  well  with  him. 

To-night,  however,  he  was  quite  sincere.  His  visit  to 
Los  Angeles  had  been  a  success;  he  had  actually  put 
through  a  deal  that  had  translated  itself  into  a  cheque  for 
a  thousand  dollars.  He  had,  through  a  mistaken  order, 
been  overstocked  with  a  certain  commodity  from  the 
Orient  that  the  retail  merchants  of  San  Francisco  bought 
very  sparingly ;  but  he  had  found  in  Los  Angeles  a  firm 
that  did  a  large  business  with  the  swarming  Japanese 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  151 

population  and  was  glad  to  take  it  over  at  a  reasonable 
figure. 

n 

It  was  after  dinner;  his  taut  trim  body  was  relaxed 
in  evening  luxury  before  the  wood  fire  of  the  back  par 
lor,  and  he  was  half  way  through  a  cigar  when  Alexina 
rose  and  extended  one  arm  along  the  mantelpiece.  She 
looked  like  a  long  black  poplar  with  her  round  narrow 
flexible  figure  and  her  small  head  held  with  a  lofty  poise ; 
as  serene  as  a  poplar  in  France  on  a  balmy  day.  But 
she  quaked  inside. 

She  glanced  at  her  happy  unsuspecting  husband  with 
an  engaging  smile.  * '  I  'm  afraid  you  will  be  rather  cross 
with  me,"  she  said  softly.  "But  I  went  down  to  the 
City  Hall  yesterday  and  revoked  my  power  of  attorney 
to  you." 

"You  did  what?"  The  slow  blood  rose  to  Dwight's 
hair.  He  mechanically  took  the  cigar  from  his  mouth. 
It  lost  its  flavor.  He  had  a  sensation  of  falling  through 
space  .  .  .  out  of  somewhere.  .  .  . 

Alexina  repeated  her  statement. 

He  recovered  himself.  "Tom  Abbott  has  been  at  yon 
again,  I  suppose.  Or  Judge  Lawton." 

"Neither.  Really,  Morty,  you  must  give  me  credit 
for  a  mind  of  my  own.  I  did  it  for  several  reasons. 
Sibyl  was  here  Sunday.  She  motored  up  from  Bur- 
lingame  with  Aileen  on  purpose  to  talk  to  me.  She  has  in 
duced  Mrs.  Hunter  and  some  other  of  the  more  intelligent 
women  down  there — those  that  read  the  serious  new 
books  and  go  to  lectures  when  there  are  any  worth  while 
— to  join  a  class  in  economics.  One  of  the  professors  at 
Stanford  is  going  to  teach  us.  Aileen  has  lost  frightfully 
at  poker  lately  and  wants  a  new  interest ;  she  put  Sibyl 
up  to  it — who  was  delighted  with  the  suggestion  as  she 
hasn  't  been  intellectual  for  quite  a  while  now,  and  really 
has  a  practical  streak;  so  that  studying  economics  ap 
pealed  to  her. 

"I  jumped  at  the  idea.  It  was  a  God-send.  I  have 
had  so  little  to  do.  I  don 't  care  for  poker  and  one  can 't 
read  all  the  time.  .  .  .  But  after  they  left  I  reflected  that 


152          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

I  should  cut  a  rather  ridiculous  figure  studying  eco 
nomics  in  the  abstract  if  I  didn't  have  sense  and  'go' 
enough  to  manage  my  own  affairs.  Why,  I  was  so  ig 
norant  I  thought  I  couldn't  draw  any  money  from  the 
bank  because  I  had  given  you  my  power  of  attorney. 
Aileen  has  an  allowance  and  the  Judge  makes  her  keep 
books.  She  usually  comes  out  about  even  at  poker  in 
the  course  of  the  month,  and  if  she  doesn't  she  pawns 
something.  I've  been  with  her  to  pawn  shops  and  it's 
the  greatest  fun.  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  as  I  know 
you  never  betray  a  confidence.  The  Judge  would  lock 
poor  dear  Aileen  up  on  bread  and  water. 

' '  Sibyl  manages  those  two  great  houses  herself.  Frank 
gives  her  some  stupendous  sum  a  year  and  she  is  proud 
of  the  fact  that  she  never  runs  over  it.  You  know  how 
she  entertains. 

"I  should  never  dare  admit  to  them — or  to  the  pro 
fessor  if  he  asked  my  opinion  on  that  sort  of  thing  and 
it  had  to  come  out — that  I  was  too  lazy  and  too  incom 
petent  to  manage  my  own  little  fortune.  So  I  went  down 
first  thing  Monday  morning  and  revoked  my  power  of 
attorney.  I  simply  couldn't  wait.  When  the  estate  is 
settled  and  turned  over  to  me  I  shall  attend  to  every 
thing  and  not  bother  you,  Morty  dear." 


ra 

Morty  dear  looked  at  her  with  a  long  hard  suspicious 
stare.  Alexina  thoughtfully  turned  up  her  eyes  and 
changed  promptly  from  a  poplar  into  a  saint. 

"I  don't  like  it.    I  don't  like  it  at  all." 

Words  were  never  his  strong  point  and  he  could  find 
none  now  adequate  to  express  his  feelings. 

"I  may  be  old-fashioned " 

"You  are,  Morty.  That  is  your  only  fault.  You 
belong  to  the  old  school  of  American  husbands " 

"There  are  plenty  of  old-fashioned  people  left  in  the 
world." 

"So  there  are,  poor  dears.  It's  going  to  be  so  hard 
for  them " 

"Are  you  trying  to  be  one  of  those  infernal  new 
women  ? ' ' 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          153 

"Well,  you  see,  I  just  naturally  am  a  child  of  my 
times,  in  spite  of  my  old-fashioned  family.  I  'd  be  much 
the  same  if  I'd  never  taken  any  interest  in  all  these 
wonderful  modern  movements." 

"It's  those  chums  of  yours — Aileen,  Sibyl,  Janet.  I 
never  did  wholly  approve  of  them. ' ' 

"Neither  did  mother  and  Maria,  but  it  never  made 
any  difference. " 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  intend  to  ignore  me 
.  .  .  disobey  me  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  Morty,  I  never  promised  to  obey  you.  You 
know  the  fun  we  all  had  at  the  rehearsal.  You  haven't 
noticed,  these  three  years,  that  I've  had  my  way  in 
pretty  nearly  everything,  merely  because  it  happened  to 
be  your  way  too.  We  've  been  living  in  a  sort  of  pleasure 
garden,  just  playing  about,  with  mother  as  the  good  old 
fairy.  But  everything  has  changed.  We  must  look  out 
for  ourselves  now,  and  I  cannot  put  the  whole  burden 
on  your  shoulders " 

"  I  do  not  mind  in  the  least.    That  is  where  it  belongs. ' ' 

Alexina  shook  her  wise  little  head.  "Oh,  no.  It  isn't 
done  any  more.  No  woman  who  has  learned  to  think  is 
so  unjust  as  to  throw  Jbhe  whole  burden  of  life  on  her 
husband's  shoulders.  You  have  your  own  daily  battle 
in  the  business  world.  I  will  do  the  rest." 

"What  damned  emancipated  talk." 

"What  a  funny  old-fashioned  word.  We  don't  even 
say  advanced  or  new  any  more." 

"  It 's  nonsense  anyhow.    You  're  nothing  but  a  child. ' ' 

"You  may  just  bet  your  life  I'm  not  a  child.  Nor 
have  I  awakened  all  of  a  sudden.  In  one  sense  I  have. 
But  not  in  this  particular  branch  of  modern  science. 
I  have  read  tons  about  it,  and  Aileen  and  I  are  always 
discussing  everything  that  interests  the  public.  I  have 
even  read  the  newspapers  for  two  years. ' ' 

"Much  better  you  didn't.  There  is  no  reason  what 
ever  for  a  woman  in  your  position  knowing  anything 
about  public  affairs.  It  detracts  from  your  charm." 

"Maybe,  but  we'll  find  more  charm  in  Life  as  we 
grow  older." 

His  memory  ran  back  along  a  curved  track  and  re 
turned  with  something  that  looked  like  a  bogey. 


154          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

"May  I  ask  what  your  program  is?  Your  household 
program?  I  had  got  everything  down  to  a  fine  point. 
...  It  seems  too  bad  you  should  bother.  ..." 

"Bother?  I've  been  bored  to  death,  and  feeling  like 
a  silly  little  good-for-nothing  besides.  The  trouble  is, 
it's  too  little  bother.  James  and  I  have  had  a  long  talk. 
Housekeeping  will  be  reduced  to  its  elements  with  him, 
but  at  least  I  shall  begin  to  feel  really  grown  up  when 
I  pore  over  monthly  bills  and  'slips'  and  sign  cheques." 

She  hesitated.  ' '  You  mustn  't  think  for  a  minute  that 
I  want  to  make  you  feel  out  of  it,  Morty.  It  is  only  that 
I  must.  The  time  has  come.  ...  Of  course,  you  have 
been  paying  half  the  bills  anyhow.  We  could  simply  go 
on  along  those  lines.  I  will  tell  you  what  it  all  amounts 
to,  shortly  after  the  first  of  the  month,  and  you'll  give 
me  half." 

IV 

Dwight  stared  at  the  end  of  his  cigar.  His  was  not 
an  agile  brain  but  in  that  moment  it  had  an  illuminating 
flash.  He  realized  that  this  sheltered  creature,  with 
whom  her  mother  had  never  discussed  household  eco 
nomics,  and  from  whom  he  had  purposely  kept  all  knowl 
edge  of  his  business,  took  for  granted  that  he  could  pay 
his  share  of  the  monthly  expenses,  merely  because  all 
the  men  she  knew  did  twice  as  much,  however  they  might 
grumble.  For  the  matter  of  that  she  never  saw  Tom 
Abbott  that  he  did  not  curse  the  ascending  prices,  but 
there  was  no  change  whatever  in  his  bountiful  fashion 
of  living.  Alexina  knew  that  the  times  were  bad  and 
that  her  husband  was  having  something  of  a  struggle, 
and,  as  a  dutiful  wife,  was  anxious  to  help  him  out  for 
the  present,  but  it  was  simply  beyond  her  powers  of 
comprehension  to  grasp  the  fact  that  he  was  in  no  posi 
tion  to  pay  half  the  expenses  of  their  small  establish 
ment. 

If  he  told  her  .  .  .  tried  to  make  her  understand  .  .  . 
even  if  she  did,  how  would  he  appear  in  her  eyes  ? 

Of  all  people  in  the  world  he  wanted  to  stand  high 
with  Alexina  ...  he  had  never  taken  more  pains  to 
bluff  the  street  when  things  were  at  their  worst  than  this 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          155 

girl  who  was  the  symbol  of  all  he  had  aspired  to  and 
precariously  achieved.  He  had  longed  for  riches,  not 
because  she  craved  luxury  and  pomp,  but  because  she 
would  be  forced  to  look  up  to  him  with  admiration  and  a 
lively  gratitude.  He  had,  in  this  spirit,  given  her,  in  the 
most  casual  manner,  handsome  presents,  or  brilliant  little 
dinners  at  fashionable  restaurants,  in  all  of  which  she 
took  a  fervent  young  pleasure.  He  had  dipped  into  his 
slender  capital,  but  of  this  she  had  not  even  a  suspicion 
...  he  had  made  some  airy  remark  about  celebrating  a 
"good  deal"  ...  no  wonder  ...  he  had  her  too  well 
bluffed. 

For  an  instant  he  contemplated  a  plain  and  manly 
statement  of  fact.  But  he  did  not  have  the  courage. 
Anything  rather  than  that  she  should  curl  that  short 
aristocratic  upper  lip  of  hers,  stare  at  him  with  wide 
astonished  eyes  that  saw  him  a  failure,  even  if  a  tem 
porary  one.  He  set  his  teeth  and  vowed  to  go  through 
with  it,  to  make  good.  This  thousand  would  last  several 
months,  even  if  he  made  no  more  than  his  expenses  mean 
while. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  lit  another  cigar.  The 
first  had  died  a  lingering  and  malodorous  death. 

1  'Have  your  own  way,"  he  said  coldly.  "I  only 
wished  to  keep  you  young  and  carefree.  If  you  choose 
to  bother  with  bills  and  investments  it  is  your  own  look 
out." 

"Thank  you,  Morty  dear." 

She  felt  that  it  would  be  an  act  of  wifely  self-abnega 
tion  to  defer  the  announcement  of  her  interest  in  social 
ism  and  Mr.  Kirkpatrick.  Aileen  and  Sibyl  had  hailed 
her  plan  as  even  more  exciting  than  the  study  of  eco 
nomics  with  an  exceedingly  good-looking  young  professor 
(who  had  been  tutoring  in  Burlingame),  and  she  had 
already  dispatched  a  note  to  him  whom  Aileen  disreputa 
bly  called  her  Fillmore  Street  mash. 


156          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  IX 


I/1RKPATRICK  sat  before  a  crescent  composed  of 
"  Mrs.  Mortimer  Dwight,  Mrs.  Francis  Leslie  Bas- 
com  and  Miss  Aileen  Livingston  Lawton. 

His  reasons  for  coming  to  Ballinger  House — which 
even  he  knew  was  inaccessible  to  the  common  herd — were 
separate  and  tabulated.  Alexina  had  fascinated  him 
against  his  best  class  principles ;  but  he  not  only  jumped 
at  the  chance  of  meeting  her  again,  he  was  excessively 
curious  to  understand  a  woman  of  her  class,  to  watch  her 
in  different  moods  and  situations.  He  was  equally  curi 
ous  to  meet  other  women  of  the  same  breed;  he  had 
never  brushed  their  skirts  before,  but  he  had  often  stood 
and  gazed  at  them  hungrily  as  they  passed  in  their 
limousines  or  driving  their  smart  little  electric  cars. 

He  was  also  curious  to  see  several  of  those  " interiors'* 
he  had  read  so  much  about,  and  hoped  his  pupils  would 
meet  in  turn  at  their  different  homes.  He  was  a  sincere 
and  honest  socialist,  was  Mr.  Kirkpatrick,  and  he  had  a 
good  healthy  class-consciousness  and  class-hatred.  But 
he  also  had  a  large  measure  of  intelligent  curiosity.  He 
had  never  expected  to  have  the  opportunity  to  gratify 
it  in  respect  to  "bourgeois"  inner  circles,  and  when  it 
came  he  had  only  hesitated  long  enough  to  search  his 
soul  and  assure  himself  that  he  was  in  no  danger  of 
growing  compliant  and  soft.  Moreover  he  might  possi 
bly  make  converts,  and  in  any  case  it  was  not  a  bad  way, 
society  being  still  what  it  was,  of  turning  an  honest 
penny. 

But  in  this  the  first  lesson  he  was  as  disconcerted  as  a 
socialist  serene  in  his  faith  could  be. 

The  three  girls  had  curved  their  slender  bodies  for 
ward,  resting  one  elbow  on  a  knee.  At  the  end  of  each 
of  these  feline  arches  was  a  pair  of  fixed  and  glowing 
eyes.  No  doubt  there  were  faces  also,  but  he  was  only 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  157 

vaguely  aware  of  three  white  disks  from  which  flowed 
forth  lambent  streams  of  concentrated  light.  They 
looked  like  three  little  sea-monsters,  slim,  flexible,  malig 
nant,  ready  to  spring. 

He  exaggerated  in  his  embarrassment,  but  he  was  not 
so  very  far  wrong. 

"The  little  devils!"  he  thought  in  his  righteous 
wrath.  "I'll  teach  'em,  all  right." 

As  it  was  necessary  to  break  the  farcical  silence  he 
said  in  a  voice  too  loud  for  the  small  library.  "Well, 
what  is  it  about  socialism  that  you  don't  just  know? 
Mrs.  Dwight  told  me  you  had  read  some." 

' '  There  is  one  thing  I  want  to  say  before  we  begin, ' ' 
said  Aileen  in  her  high  light  impertinent  voice,  "and 
that  is  that  if  there  is  one  thing  that  makes  us  more 
angry  than  another  it  is  to  be  called  bourgeois." 

"And  ain't  you?" 

"We  are  not.  I  suppose  your  Marx  didn't  know  the 
difference,  although  he  is  said  to  have  married  well,  but 
"bourgeois  for  centuries  in  Europe  had  meant  middle- 
class.  Just  that  and  nothing  more.  Marx  had  no  right 
to  pervert  an  honest  historic  old  word  into  something  so 
different  and  so  obnoxious." 

"To  Marx  all  capitalists  were  in  the  same  class.  I 
suppose  what  you  mean  is  that  you  society  folks  call 
yourselves  aristocrats,  even  when  you  have  less  capital 
than  some  of  them  that  can't  get  in." 

* '  Sure  thing.    Take  it  from  me. ' ' 

He  gazed  at  her  astounded,  and  once  more  had  re 
course  to  his  rather  heavy  sarcasm. 

"Even  when  they  use  slang." 

"Oh,  we're  never  afraid  to — like  lots  of  the  middle- 
class — bourgeois.  Too  sure  of  ourselves  to  care  a  hang 
what  any  one  thinks  of  us." 

Alexina  came  hastily  to  the  rescue,  for  a  dull  glow 
was  kindling  in  Mr.  Kirkpatrick 's  small  sharp  eyes.  She 
didn't  mind  baiting  him  a  little,  but  as  he  was  in  a  way 
her  guest  he  must  be  protected  from  the  naughtiness  of 
Aileen  and  the  insolence  of  Sibyl  Bascom,  who  had  taken 
a  cigarette  from  a  gold  be  jeweled  case  that  dangled  from 
her  wrist  and  was  asking  him  for  a  light.  He  gave  her 


158          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

measure  for  measure,  for  he  lifted  his  heavy  boot  and 
struck  a  match  on  the  sole. 

"You  must  not  be  too  hard  on  us,  Mr.  Kirkpatrick. ' ' 
Alexina  upreared  and  leaned  against  the  high  back  of 
her  chair  with  a  sweet  and  gracious  dignity.  "We  are 
really  a  pack  of  ignoramuses,  full  of  prejudices,  which, 
however,  we  would  get  rid  of  if  we  knew  how.  We  are 
hoping  everything  from  these  lessons." 

"Do  you  smoke f" 

"No,  I  don't  happen  to  like  the  taste  of  tobacco,  but 
I  quite  approve  of  my  friends  smoking — unless  they 
smoke  their  nerves  out  by  the  roots,  as  Miss  Lawton  does. 
Don't  give  her  a  light.  But  I'm  sure  you  smoke.  I'll 
get  you  a  cigar." 

She  pinched  Aileen,  glared  at  Sibyl,  and  left  the  room. 


Mortimer  was  smoking  furiously,  trying  to  concentrate 
his  mind  on  the  evening  paper. 

' '  Give  me  a  cigar,  Morty  dear. ' ' 

"A  cigar?    What  for?" 

"It  would  be  too  mean  of  those  girls  to  smoke  unless 
Mr.  Kirkpatrick  did  too,  and  I  am  sure  we  couldn  't  stand 
his  tobacco.  Even  a  whiff  of  bad  tobacco  makes  me  feel 
quite  ill." 

"I'll  be  hanged  if  I  give  my  cigars  to  that  bounder. 
The  kitchen  is  the  place  for  him." 

"But  not  for  us.  And  our  minds  are  quite  made  up, 
you  know.  We  are  going  to  study  with  him  just  to  find 
out  what  these  strange  animals  called  socialists  are  like. 
He  is  queer  enough,  to  begin  with.  And  the  knowledge 
may  prove  useful  one  of  these  days.  ...  If  you  won't 
give  me  one  I'll  send  James  out " 

Mortimer  handed  over  one  of  his  choice  cigars  with  ill 
grace,  and  Alexina  returned  to  the  library.  Aileen  was 
informing  Mr.  Kirkpatrick  how  intensely  she  disliked 
Marx's  beard,  not  only  as  she  had  seen  it  in  a  photo 
graph,  but  as  she  had  smelt  it  in  Spargo  's  too  vivid  de 
scription. 

He  rose  awkwardly  as  she  entered,  but  he  rose.    She 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  159 

handed  him  the  cigar  and  struck  a  match  and  held  it  to 
one  end  while  he  drew  at  the  other.  Their  faces  were 
close  and  she  gave  him  a  smile  of  warm  and  spontaneous 
friendliness. 

Thought  Mr.  Kirkpatrick:  "Oh,  Lord,  she's  got  me. 
I  'd  better  make  tracks  out  of  here.  If  she  was  a  vamp 
like  that  Bascom  woman  she  wouldn't  get  me  one  little 
bit.  Plenty  of  them  where  I  come  from.  But  she's 
plain  goddess  with  eyes  like  headlights  on  an  engine." 

Perturbed  as  he  was,  however,  he  resumed  his  seat 
and  drew  appreciatively  at  the  finest  cigar  that  had  ever 
come  his  way.  It  had  the  opportune  effect  of  causing 
his  class-hatred  to  flame  afresh.  No  fear  that  he  would 
be  made  soft  by  teaching  in  the  homes  of  these  pampered 
cats.  For  the  moment  he  hated  Alexina,  seated  in  a 
carved  high-back  Italian  chair  like  a  young  queen  on  a 
throne. 

"Well/'  he  growled.  "Let's  get  to  business.  I've 
brought  Spargo.  Marx  is  too  much  for  me.  He's  ter 
rible  dull  and  involved.  He  was  so  taken  up  with  his 
subject,  I  guess,  that  he  forgot  to  learn  how  to  write 
about  it  so's  people  without  much  time  and  education 
could  understand  without  getting  a  pain  in  their  beans. 
Of  course  I've  heard  him  expounded  many  times  from 
the  platform,  but  there  must  have  been  about  fifty 
Marxes,  for  I've  heard — or  read — just  about  that  many 
expounders  of  him  and  no  two  agree  so's  you'd  notice  it. 
That,  to  my  mind,  is  the  only  stumbling  block  for  so 
cialism — that  we  have  a  prophet  who's  so  hard  to  under 
stand. 

"So,  I 've  settled  on  Spargo.  He  has  the  name  of  be 
ing  about  the  best  student  of  Marx  and  of  socialism  gen 
erally — it's  split  up  quite  a  bit — and  he's  easy  reading. 
I  fetched  him  along." 

He  produced  "Socialism"  from  his  hat  and  hesitated. 
"I  don't  know  noth — a  thing  about  teaching." 

"Oh,  don't  let  that  worry  you,"  drawled  Sibyl  Bas 
com  in  her  low  voluptuous  voice  and  transfixing  him  with 
narrow  swimming  eyes;  then  as  he  refused  to  be  over 
come,  she  continued  more  humanly:  "We've  been  to 
lots  of  classes,  you  know.  There  are  all  sorts  of  meth- 


160          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

ods.  Suppose  one  of  us  reads  the  first  chapter  aloud  and 
then  you  expound.  That  is,  we'll  ask  you  questions." 

" That's  fine,"  said  Mr.  Kirkpatrick  with  immense  re 
lief.  "Fire  away." 

And  Alexina,  who  always  read  prefaces  and  introduc 
tions  last,  began  with  "Kobert  Owen  and  the  Utopian 
Spirit." 


BOOK  III 


CHAPTER  I 


]\/fR.  KIRKPATRICK  realized  his  ambition  to  see 
*•  *•  with  his  own  sharp  puncturing  little  eyes  (Aileen 
said  they  reminded  her  of  a  sewing-machine  needle  play 
ing  staccato)  several  of  the  most  flagrant  examples  of 
capitalistic  extravagance  where  parasitic  femalehood 
idled  away  their  useless  lives  and  servitors  battened. 
In  other  words  the  extremely  comfortable  or  the  shame 
lessly  luxurious  homes  built  for  the  most  part  by  still 
active  business  men  whose  first  real  period  of  rest  would 
be  in  a  small  stone  residence  in  a  certain  silent  city  Down 
the  Peninsula. 

Several  were  already  occupied  by  their  widows.  In  a 
climate  where  a  man  can  work  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  days  of  the  year  the  temptation  to  do  so  is  strong, 
and  not  conducive  to  longevity. 

The  Ferdinand  Thorntons,  Trennahans,  Hofers  and 
others  who  had  lost  their  city  homes  on  Nob  Hill  had  not 
rebuilt,  but  lived  the  year  round  in  their  country  houses 
at  Burlingame,  San  Mateo,  Alta,  Menlo  Park,  Atherton, 
or  t  '  across  the  Bay, ' '  using  the  hotels  when  they  came  to 
town  for  dances,  but  motoring  home  after  the  theater. 

Fortunately  the  finest  and  all  of  the  newest  mansions 
had  been  built  in  the  Western  Addition  and  escaped  the 
fire.  Sibyl  Bascom's  father-in-law  had  erected,  shortly 
before  his  death,  a  large  square  granite  palace  more  or 
less  in  the  Italian  style,  and  as  his  widow  preferred  to 
live  in  Santa  Barbara,  Frank  Bascom  had  taken  it  over 
for  himself  and  his  bride. 

Olive  had  carried  her  millions  to  France  and  found  her 
marquis.  (As  he  was  wealthy  himself  they  contributed 
little  to  the  current  gossip  of  San  Francisco. ) 

Janet  Maynard  lived  with  her  mother,  another  widow 
of  unrestricted  means,  in  a  large  low  Spanish  house  with 
a  patio,  built  by  a  famous  local  architect  with  such  suc- 

163 


164          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

cess  that  Rex  Roberts  when  he  married  Polly  Liming, 
had  bought  the  nearest  vacant  lot  and  ordered  a  roman 
tic  mansion  as  nearly  like  that  of  his  wife's  intimate 
friend  as  possible.  He  would  live  in  it  as  soon  as  the 
idiosyncrasies  of  The  Architect  and  Labor  would  per 
mit. 

Mrs.  Clement  Hunter  had  another  pale  gray  stone 
palace,  supported  in  front  by  noble  pillars  and  com 
manding  a  superb  view  of  the  Bay,  the  Golden  Gate, 
and  Mount  Tamalpais. 

Aileen  and  her  father  lived  in  an  old  wooden  house 
with  a  modern  facade  of  stucco,  and  surrounded  by  a 
garden  filled  with  somewhat  blighted  geraniums,  fuch 
sias,  sweet  alicias,  heliotrope,  mignonette,  and  other 
nineteenth-century  posies  beloved  of  Mrs.  Lawton  in 
her  romantic  and  innocent  youth. 

Sibyl  and  Alice  Thorndyke's  father  had  left  his  girls 
a  square  bow-windowed  mansard-roofed  double  house, 
built  in  eighteen-seventy-eight,  and  unreclaimed.  With 
it  went  a  moderate  income,  and  Alice  lived  on  under  the 
ugly  old  roof  chaperoned  by  an  aunt,  who  had  been 
chosen  from  a  liberal  assortment  of  relatives  because  she 
was  almost  deaf,  quite  myopic,  and  so  terrified  of 
draughts  that  her  absence  when  convenient  could  always 
be  counted  on. 


All  of  these  young  women  belonged  to  Alexina's  per 
sonal  set,  and  joined  the  class  in  socialism,  as  they  joined 
anything  the  stronger  spirits  among  them  suggested; 
and  they  attended  as  regularly  as  could  be  expected  of 
"  parasites  "  who  were  mainly  interested  in  society,  dress, 
poker,  and  some  absorbing  creature  of  the  other  sex. 

Mr.  Kirkpatrick  hated  them  all  with  the  exception  of 
Alexina,  Aileen,  Mrs.  Price  Ruyler,  the  half -French  wife 
of  a  New  Yorker,  recently  adopted  by  California,  and 
Mrs.  Hunter,  who  had  joined  out  of  curiosity,  having 
read  a  certain  amount  of  socialism,  but  never  met  a  so 
cialist. 

She  confided  to  Mrs.  Thornton  that  she  was  not  acutely 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          165 

anxious  to  meet  another,  and  Mrs.  Thornton  replied 
tartly: 

' 'What  do  you  want  to  belong  to  such  a  class  for? 
It's  rank  hyprocrisy  to  pretend  interest  in  a  question 
we  all  hate  the  very  name  of,  and  to  give  the  creature 
money  that  he  no  doubt  turns  over  to  the  *  cause'  with 
his  tongue  in  his  cheek.  I  'd  never  give  one  of  them  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  I  recognized  his  exist 
ence. 

Said  Maria  Abbott  firmly:  "Exactly.  "We  should  ig 
nore  them,  just  as  we  ignore  envious  and  spiteful  and  ill- 
bred  outsiders  of  any  sort." 

"But  we  may  not  be  able  to  ignore  them,"  said  Mrs. 
Hunter.  "Their  organization  is  the  best  of  any  party 
even  if  their  numbers  are  not  overwhelming.  If  they  are 
content  to  advance  slowly  and  by  purely  political  meth 
ods  there  is  no  knowing  who  will  own  this  or  any  govern 
ment  fifty  years  hence.  For  my  part  I  'd  rather  they  all 
turn  raging  anarchists ;  then  we  could  turn  machine  guns 
on  them  and  clean  'em  out.  I  hate  them,  for  I  was  too 
long  getting  where  I  am  now,  and  I  want  to  stay.  But 
I  don't  make  the  mistake  of  ignoring  them,  and  I  rather 
like  having  a  squint  at  them  at  close  quarters.  Kirk- 
patrick  has  taken  us  to  several  socialist  meetings  .  .  . 
we  borrow  the  servants'  coats  and  mutilate  our  oldest 
hats.  .  .  .  Socialism  seems  to  me  rather  more  endurable 
than  the  socialists,  and  of  these  Kirkpatrick  is  about  the 
sanest  I  have  heard.  They  rant  and  froth,  contradict 
themselves  and  one  another,  wander  from  the  point  and 
never  get  anywhere.  .  .  .  That  would  give  me  hope  if  it 
were  not  for  the  fact  that  poor  California  is  a  magnet 
for  the  cranks  of  every  fad  as  well  as  for  the  riff-raff 
and  derelicts.  .  .  .  My  other  hope  is  that  even  they — 
that  is  to  say  the  least  unbalanced  of  them — will  come  in 
time  to  realize  that  socialism  is  economically  un 
sound " 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,"  cried  Mrs.  Abbott,  "that  Alex- 
ina  has  gone  to  socialist  meetings  ? ' ' 

1 '  Rather.     She 's  very  keen ' ' 

"Believes  in  it?" 

"Bather  not.    But  she  is  naturally  thorough — has  a 


166          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

really  extraordinary  tendency,  for  a  San  Franciscan  of 
her  sex  and  status,  to  finish  anything  she  has  begun. 
Sometimes  when  she  is  arguing  with  Kirkpatrick  she 
sticks  out  that  chin  of  hers  so  far  that  you  notice  how 
square  it  is.  She  has  him  pretty  well  tamed  though. 
When  he  is  ready  to  eat  the  rest  of  us  alive  she  can 
smooth  him  down  like  a  regular  lion  tamer." 

"Well,  you're  nothing  but  a  lot  of  parlor  socialists," 
said  Mrs.  Thornton  disgustedly.  "And  just  as  ridicu 
lous  as  any  other  hybrids.  But  I'm  relieved  that  it 
hasn't  spoiled  your  taste  for  the  simpler  pleasures  of 
life.  Maria,  as  you  don't  play  poker  we'll  have  a  game 
of  bridge.  Lidie,  ring  for  cocktails,  will  you — or  would 
you  rather  have  a  gin  fizz  ?  Don 't  look  so  horrified,  Ma 
ria.  We're  better  than  socialists,  anyhow;  if  they  did 
win  out  you'd  have  farther  to  fall  than  we,  for  you're  a 
moss-backed  old  conservative  who  hates  change  of  any 
sort,  while  we  not  only  love  change  of  all  sorts  but  are 
regular  anarchists :  do  as  we  please  and  snap  our  fingers 
at  the  world.  Here  we  are. ' ' 

The  three  were  in  Mrs.  Thornton's  Moorish  palace  half 
way  between  San  Mateo  and  Burlingame,  a  situation  that 
symbolized  the  connecting  bridge  between  the  old  and 
new  order  for  Mrs.  Abbott.  Mrs.  Thornton  was  a  lineal 
descendant  of  the  Eincon  Hill  of  the  sixties  and  had 
made  her  debut  with  Maria  Groome  in  the  eighties.  But 
she  had  married  an  immoderately  rich  man  and  had  a 
barbaric  taste  for  splendor  that  formed  the  proper  set 
ting  for  her  own  somewhat  barbaric  beauty,  and  imperi 
ous  temper.  Her  dark  and  splendid  beauty  was  waning, 
for  in  the  matter  of  giving  aid  to  nature  with  secrecy  or 
with  art  she  was  faithful  to  the  old  tradition.  But  she 
was  always  an  imposing  figure  and  as  close  to  being  the 
first  power  in  San  Francisco  society  as  that  happy-go- 
lucky  independent  class  would  ever  tolerate. 


ra 

Kirkpatrick  liked  Mrs.  Hunter,  regarding  her  as  "an 
honest  plain-spoken  dame  without  any  frills."  This 
estimate  applied  not  only  to  her  temperament  but  to  her 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          167 

costumes.  He  admired  her  severe  tailored  suits  (al 
though  he  sensed  their  cost)  and  her  smart,  plain,  hard, 
little  hats. 

The  "frills  and  furbelows"  of  the  younger  "spend 
ers"  irritated  the  group  of  nerves  appropriated  by  his 
class-consciousness  almost  beyond  endurance;  but  he 
managed  to  stand  it  by  reminding  himself  that  irrita 
tion  of  all  such  was  a  healthy  sign  and  vastly  preferable 
to  insidious  tolerance. 

Mrs.  Hunter  was  also  as  regular  in  her  attendance  as 
Mrs.  Dwight,  Miss  Lawton  and  Mrs.  Price  Ruyler,  and 
asked  fairly  intelligent  questions.  The  others  floated  in 
and  out,  and  one  by  one  dropped  from  the  class,  until 
toward  the  middle  of  the  second  winter  none  remained 
but  Alexina,  Aileen,  Mrs.  Hunter  and  Helene  Kuyler, 
who,  like  Aileen,  found  in  the  "frantic  interest"  of  the 
materialistic  creed  which  antagonized  every  instinct  in 
them,  a  distraction  from  the  excessive  gambling  which 
had  threatened  to  wreck  their  nerves,  purses,  and  peace 
of  mind.  They  confided  this  artlessly  to  Mr.  Kirkpat- 
rick,  who  replied  dryly  that  they  were  the  best  argument 
he  had  in  stock. 

But  if  the  major  part  of  his  fashionable  class  deserted 
him  in  due  course  he  had  meanwhile  seen  the  inside  of 
their  homes ;  and  in  each  case,  Alexina,  who  divined  his 
interest,  arranged  to  have  him  shown  over  the  house 
from  the  kitchens  and  pantries  straight  up  to  the  serv 
ants'  quarters. 

These  he  found  unexpectedly  comfortable  and  com 
plete.  In  fact,  they  were  so  much  more  modern  and 
adorned  than  the  little  cottage  in  the  Mission  where  he 
lived  with  his  mother  that  he  longed  for  the  immediate 
installation  of  a  system  that  would  teach  these  workers 
what  real  work  was.  What  enraged  him  further  was 
their  "airs."  They  too  obviously  looked  upon  him  as 
an  alien  intruder,  whereas  their  mistresses,  until  social 
ism  bored  them,  were,  for  the  most  part,  as  charmingly 
courteous  as  his  one  reliable  friend,  Mrs.  Mortimer 
Dwight. 


168          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


IV 

During  the  first  winter  and  spring  while  his  pupils 
were  still  fairly  regular  in  their  attendance,  he  was  both 
incensed  and  grimly  amused  by  their  various  idiosyncra 
sies.  He  soon  became  accustomed  to  their  vanity  boxes 
and  their  public  application  of  powder  and  lip  stick, 
the  frank  crossing  of  their  knees  that  exhibited  more 
diaphanous  silk  than  he  had  ever  seen  in  his  life  before, 
the  polite  excitement  that  any  new  article  of  attire  worn 
by  one  seemed  to  induce  in  all,  the  wicked  but  on  the 
whole  good-natured  baiting  of  Aileen  Lawton  and  Polly 
Roberts,  the  alternate  insolence  and  Circean  glances  of 
Mrs.  Bascom,  who  amused  herself  "practicing  on  him," 
and  the  constant  smoking  of  most  of  them. 

But  what  he  could  neither  understand  nor  accept  was 
their  attitude  toward  one  another.  They  would  all  rush 
at  the  hostess  of  the  day  as  they  entered,  or  at  late  com 
ers,  with  the  excited  enthusiasm  of  loved  and  loving  inti 
mates  who  had  not  met  for  months;  and  Kirkpatrick, 
who  missed  nothing,  knew  that  they  met  once  a  day  if 
not  oftener. 

In  spite  of  their  intimacy  their  warm  enraptured 
greetings  carried  a  patent  measure  of  admiration  and 
even  respect.  It  was  always  at  least  fifteen  minutes  be 
fore  they  would  settle  down  for  ' '  work, ' '  and  meanwhile 
they  chattered  about  their  common  interests,  but  always 
with  the  air  of  relating  long-delayed  information  and  a 
frank  desire  to  give  of  their  best.  He  could  have  under 
stood  "gush,"  and  sentimentalism,  but  this  attitude  of 
which  he  had  neither  heard  nor  read  bothered  him  until 
one  day  he  had  a  sudden  flash  of  enlightenment. 


"Is  it  class-consciousness?" 

He  asked  the  question  of  Gora,  who  dropped  in  upon  a 
class  at  Alexina's  or  Aileen 's  sometimes  on  a  free  after 
noon,  and  with  whom  he  was  walking  down  to  the  trolley 
car. 

"Something  like  that.     Caste  they  would  call  it  if 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          169 

they  thought  about  it  at  all,  which  to  do  them  justice 
they  don't.  ...  It  used  to  be  the  fashion  in  San  Fran 
cisco  for  everybody  to  'knock'  everybody  else.  Then 
came  a  revulsion  and  everybody  began  to  praise  and 
boost.  You  see  it  in  all  circles,  but  the  way  it  has  taken 
that  crowd  is  to  show  their  intense  loyalty  to  one  another 
by  a  constant  reminder  of  it  in  manner,  and  in  refrain 
ing  from  criticism  of  one  another,  no  matter  how  much 
they  may  gossip  about  others  outside  of  their  particular 
set.  Once,  just  to  try  my  sister-in-law,  I  told  her  that 
in  my  nursing  I  had  stumbled  across  evidence  of  an 
illicit  love  affair  going  on  between  one  of  her  friends  and 
a  married  man,  the  husband  of  my  patient.  My  sister 
became  so  remote  that  I  had  the  impression  for  a  few 
moments  that  she  really  wasn't  there.  Once  it  would 
have  infuriated  me,  but  I  have  improved  my  sense  of 
humor  and  developed  my  philosophy,  so  I  merely  turned 
the  conversation,  as  she  wouldn't  speak  at  all.  She  had 
quite  withdrawn — still  further  into  the  sacred  preserves, 
I  suppose.  .  .  . 

"They  are  not  only  loyal  but  really  seem  to  have  the 
most  exalted  admiration  for  one  another  because  they 
are  all  of  the  same  heaven-born  stock.  .  .  .  That  is  not 
all,  however.  The  truth  of  the  matter  is  that  they  get  so 
bored  out  here  they  would  go  frantic  if  they  did  not 
cultivate  as  many  kinds  of  excitement  and  indigenous 
admirations  as  their  wits  are  equal  to.  "When  they  can, 
they  vary  the  monotony  of  life  with  summers  in  Europe 
and  winters  in  New  York — or  Santa  Barbara,  where  they 
meet  many  interesting  people  from  the  East  or  England  ; 
but  some  of  them  won 't  leave  their  busy  husbands  or  the 
husbands  won  ?t  be  left ;  or  parents  are  not  amenable ;  so 
they  try  to  create  an  atmosphere  of  high  spirits  and  sheer 
delight  in  youth  and  one  another,  and  the  result  is  al 
most  a  work  of  art.  I  rather  respect  them,  but  I  envy 
them  a  good  deal  less  than  before  I  knew  them  so  well. ' ' 
' '  Oh,  you  envied  them  ?  They  should  envy  you. ' ' 
"Well,  they  don't!  Yes,  I  envied  them  because  it  is 
my  natural  right  to  be  one  of  them  and  fate  slammed  the 
door  before  I  was  born.  It  embittered  my  first  youth, 
and  it  might  have  become  an  obsession  after  my  brother 


170          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

married  into  society  if  I  had  not  found  the  right  kind  of 
work.  That  and  the  boring  Sundays  I've  spent  at  Rin- 
cona,  and  the  experiences  I  have  had  with  that  young 
set,  who  are  always  at  Mrs.  Dwight's  more  or  less;  be 
sides  a  profound  satisfaction  in  accomplishing  literary 
work  that  not  one  of  them  could  do  to  save  their  lives — 
all  this  has  routed  a  good  deal  of  my  old  bitterness  of 
spirit.  I  am  not  sorry  that  I  had  it  and  indulged  it, 
however.  Discontent  and  resentment  put  spurs  on  the 
soul.  Anything  is  better  than  smugness." 

"  It 's  made  you  different  enough  from  these  others,  all 
right.  Even  from  Mrs.  Dwight,  who  is  different  herself. 
...  I'd  rather  you'd  stayed  discontented.  The  whole 
scheme's  all  wrong  and  you  know  it.  You've  suffered 
from  it.  You  should  be  the  last  to  tolerate  it.  When 
they're  jabbering  away  about  their  ninny  affairs  they 
pay  as  little  attention  to  you  as  they  do  to  me.  They 
forget  our  existence.  We  don't  belong,  as  they  say. 
There  isn't  one  of  them  except  Mrs.  Dwight  that  I 
wouldn't  give  my  eye  teeth  to  see  hanging  out  the  wash 
or  running  a  machine  in  a  factory. ' ' 

Gora  turned  to  him  with  a  smile.  At  this  time  she 
was  as  nearly  happy  as  was  possible  for  that  insurgent 
too  aspiring  spirit. 

11  Nevertheless,  they've  made  you  over  in  a  way — Oh, 
don't  flame!  I  don't  mean  your  principles  .  .  .  other 
ways  that  won't  hurt  you  in  the  least.  You  cut  your 
hair  differently.  You  wear  better  shoes.  You  have  your 
clothes  pressed — the  suit  you  wear  up  here  anyhow. 
You've  reformed  your  speech  somewhat,  and  you  know 
a  good  deal  more  about  many  things  than  you  did  a  few 
months  ago.  I  am  expecting  any  day  to  see  you  wearing 
a  'boiled'  shirt." 

"Oh,  no,  not  that!  It'd  never  do.  It's  true  enough 
I  got  to  feeling  self-conscious  about  my  rough  clothes 
and  boots,  especially  after  I  met  that  dude  brother  of 
yours  one  day  in  the  hall  and  he  gave  me  a  once-over 
that  made  me  feel  like  a  tramp." 

"Oh!  .  .  .  But  he  was  snubbed  himself  not  so  very 
long  ago,  and  I  suppose  it  gives  him  a  certain  pleasure 
to  snub  some  one  else.  I  am  ashamed  of  him.  ,  .  But 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  171 

tell  me,  don't  you  like  them  rather  better  than  you  ex 
pected?  Find  them  rather  a  better  sort?  You  must 
see  that  there  is  practically  no  leisure  class  as  far  as  the 
men  are  concerned " 

"They  have  time  enough  to  go  chicken  chasing " 

' '  Well,  aside  from  that  ?  At  least  they  do  work.  And 
the  younger  women?  You  knew  before  that  they  were 
frivolous  because  they  had  too  much  money  and  too  few 
responsibilities.  Many  of  the  older  women  have  a  serious 
and  useful  side,  even  if  they  do  waste  an  unholy  amount 
of  time  at  cards." 

"Well,  if  you  ask  me,  their  manners,  when  they  re 
member  to  use  'em,  are  better  than  I  expected.  Only  that 
Miss  Thorndyke  is  cold  and  haughty,  but  perhaps  that's 
because  she's  poor  (for  her),  or  is  covering  up  some 
thing,  or  is  just  plain  stupid.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Dwight's  man 
ners  are  always  perfect.  She's  my  idea  of  a  lady — just ! 
And  in  the  new  system  there'll  be  a  long  sight  more  la 
dies  than  is  possible  now,  only  no  aristocrats.  .  .  .  Yes, 
they're  decent  enough  considering  they're  rotten  poi 
soned  by  money  and  thinkin'  themselves  better 'n  the 
mass;  and  I  like  their  affection  for  one  another.  But 
they  could  be  all  that  in  the  socialist  state  and  more  too. 
They'd  have  to  cut  out  drink  and  gambling,  and  a  few 
other  diversions  some  of  'em '11  drift  into,  if  one  or  two 
of  'em  haven't  already — just  through  being  bored  to 
death." 

"Do  you  honestly  think  socialism  means  universal 
virtue?" 

' '  No,  I  don 't.  I  'm  no  such  greenhorn ;  though  there 's 
some  that  does,  or  pretends  to.  ...  But  I  mean  there 'd 
be  no  drifting  into  vice  like  there  is  now,  no  indulgence 
of  any  old  weakness  because  temptation  was  always  fol 
lowing  them  about  or  just  round  the  corner.  That's 
the  trouble  now.  .  .  .  But  in  the  most  perfect  state  some 
would  be  watching  out  for  their  chance,  just  because  the 
old  Adam  was  too  strong  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  all  the 
old  reminders  had  disappeared. ' ' 

"More  likely  they'd  all  murder  one  another  because 
they  were  some  ten  thousand  times  more  bored  than  that 
poor  little  group  whose  brains  you  are  addling." 


172          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

"I  don't  like  to  hear  you  talk  like  that,  Miss  Gora. 
You  ought  to  give  that  pen  of  yours  to  socialism.  There 
would  be  all  the  revenge  you  could  want — and  it's  what 
you're  entitled  to.  Then  I  could  call  you  Comrade 
Gora." 

i '  Call  me  Comrade  by  all  means  if  it  hurts  you  to  say 
Miss  to  a  fellow  worker.  .  .  .  You  admit  then  that  envy 
of  a  society  you  were  not  born  into  and  which  refuses  to 
acknowledge  you  as  an  equal,  is  the  secret  of  your  desire 
to  pull  it  down?" 

"Partly  that,"  he  admitted  coolly.  "Not  that  I'd 
change  places  with  any  of  those  fat  millionaires  I  see 
shuffling  down  the  steps  of  the  Pacific-Union  Club — al 
though  I  '11  admit  to  you  what  I  wouldn  't  to  those  young 
devils  in  my  class,  that  I  know  some  socialists  who  would. 
I  hate  the  sight  of  'em.  But  I  want  to  do  away  with 
class-rights  and  class-distinctions,  not  only  because  I  just 
naturally  have  no  use  for  them  but  because  I  want  to 
put  an  end  to  the  misery  of  the  world. ' ' 

"You  mean  the  material  misery.  What  would  you  do 
with  the  other  seven  hundred  different  varieties?" 

' '  Well  ...  I  guess  each  case  would  have  to  take  care 
of  itself.  Perhaps  we'd  get  round  to  it  after  a  while. 
Get  poverty  and  class-envy  out  of  the  world,  and  some 
genius,  like  as  not,  would  invent  a  post-graduate  course 
at  colleges  for  human  nature.  All  things  are  possible. ' ' 

"You  are  an  optimist!  Here's  our  car.  Come  home 
with  me  and  share  the  supper  that  I  pay  for  with  the 
tainted  money  of  a  plutocrat.  Only  we  haven't  any  real 
plutocrats  in  San  Francisco.  Only  modest  millionaires. 
Will  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Kirkpatrick.  "And  thank  you 
kindly."  He  even  smiled,  for  he  was  developing  a 
latent  heavily  overlain  seed  of  humor;  inherited  from 
the  full  bay  tree  that  had  flourished  in  his  grandfather, 
born  in  County  Clare,  where  men  sometimes  indulged  in 
rebellion  but  did  not  take  themselves  too  seriously  withal. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  173 


CHAPTER  II 


HPHAT  winter  and  the  following  seasons  for  the  next 
*  few  years  passed  very  rapidly  for  Alexina.  Be 
sides  her  classes  and  the  constant  companionship  of  her 
friends  (to  say  nothing  of  the  excitement  of  helping  one 
or  two  of  them  out  of  not  infrequent  scrapes),  she  had 
for  a  time  the  absorbing  interest  of  refurnishing  the  best 
part  of  her  house. 

The  square  lower  hall  which  had  been  scantily  fur 
nished  with  the  grandfather's  clock,  a  hat-rack,  and  a 
settee,  and  whose  walls  were  covered  with  "marble  pa 
per,"  was  painted,  walls  and  wood,  a  deep  ivory  white, 
and  refurnished  with  light  wicker  furniture,  palms,  and 
growing  plants.  The  hat-rack  was  abolished,  and  the 
small  library  on  the  left  of  the  entrance  turned  into  a 
men's  dressing-room.  The  folding  doors  were  removed 
from  the  great  double  parlors,  the  "body  brussels"  re 
placed  by  hardwood  floors,  the  walls  tinted  a  pale  gray 
as  a  background  for  the  really  valuable  pictures  (includ 
ing  the  proud  and  gracious  and  beautiful  Alexina  Ball- 
inger,  dust  long  since  in  Lone  Mountain) ,  and  the  splen 
did  pieces  of  Italian  furniture  which  had  always  seemed 
to  sulk  and  bulge  against  the  dull  brown  walls.  The 
rep  and  walnut  sets  were  sent  to  the  auction  room  and 
replaced  by  comfortable  chairs  and  sofas  whose  colors 
varied,  but  harmonized  not  only  with  one  another  but 
with  the  rugs  that  Alexina  under  Gora's  direction  had 
bought  at  auction.  In  fact  she  bought  many  of  her  new 
pieces  at  auction  and  with  Aileen  found  it  vastly  excit 
ing  to  pore  over  the  advertisements  and  then  go  down 
to  the  crowded  rooms  and  bid. 

The  billiard  room  behind  the  former  library  she  left 
as  it  was.  Her  mother's  large  bedroom  upstairs  she 
turned  into  a  library  with  bookcases  to  the  ceiling  on 
three  sides,  and  one  of  the  carved  oaken  tables  against 
an  expanse  of  Pompeiian  red  relieved  by  one  painting 


174          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

(a  wedding  gift  from  Judge  Lawton,  who  believed  in 
patronizing  local  art)  that  had  despoiled  a  desert  of  its 
gorgeous  yellow  sunrise. 

The  carpet  and  curtains  were  red  without  pattern. 
The  coal  grate  had  been  removed  and  a  fireplace  built 
for  logs.  It  was  to  be  her  own  den  for  long  rainy  win 
ter  afternoons,  or  the  cold  and  foggy  days  of  summer 
when  she  remained  in  the  city. 

The  dining-room  was  also  given  a  hardwood  floor  and 
a  Japanese  red  and  gold  wall  paper  as  a  compliment 
to  her  martial  ancestors ;  but  as  the  sideboards  were  built 
into  the  walls  and  could  be  replaced  only  at  great  cost 
they  remained  as  a  brooding  reminder  of  the  solid  six 
ties,  and  no  doubt  exchanged  resentful  reminiscences 
at  night  with  the  chairs  which  had  been  merely  re 
covered. 

As  a  matter  of  course  modern  bathtubs  were  installed 
and  gas  replaced  by  electricity. 

All  this  made  a  "hole"  in  Alexina 's  bonds,  the  wed 
ding-present  of  her  brothers,  but  Mortimer  offered  no 
objection,  knowing  as  he  did  that  to  achieve  his  ambition 
of  being  master  of  a  house  to  which  fashionable  people 
would  come  as  a  matter  of  course  the  outlay  was  im 
perative.  Moreover,  entertaining  at  home  would  be  far 
cheaper  for  him  than  at  the  restaurants. 

He  was  doing  fairly  well  at  this  time,  for  he  had 
learned  what  commodities  the  retail  men  were  likely  to 
buy  of  a  firm  as  small  as  his,  and  he  had  got  into  touch 
with  one  or  two  foreign  markets  not  monopolized  by  the 
older  houses.  Moreover,  he  had  been  speculating  a  little 
in  the  new  Nevada  mines,  and  successfully.  He  pre 
sented  Alexina  with  a  Victrola  which  included  the  music 
for  all  the  new  dances,  and  a  long  coat  of  baby  lamb 
lined  with  her  favorite  periwinkle  blue.  To  his  sister 
he  returned  a  thousand  dollars  of  her  money. 

Alexina  knew  nothing  of  these  speculations  and  felt 
that  her  original  faith  in  him  was  justified.  He  did  not 
offer  even  yet  to  pay  all  the  monthly  expenses  of  the  house, 
explaining  casually  that  the  greater  part  of  his  profits 
went  back  into  the  business;  but  he  handed  over  his 
share  promptly,  and  such  fleeting  doubts  and  anxieties 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          175 

as  may  once  have  visited  his  still  inexperienced  wife 
faded  and  finally  disappeared. 


They  began  to  entertain  a  little  during  the  second  win 
ter,  Mrs.  Groome  having  been  dead  nearly  two  years. 
The  new  floor  of  the  large  drawing-room  had  been  laid 
for  dancing,  and  their  friends  formed  a  habit,  when 
there  was  " nothing  on"  elsewhere,  of  telephoning  and 
announcing  they  were  coming  up  to  take  a  whirl.  This 
led  to  more  telephoning,  and  some  twenty  couples  would 
dance  in  the  long-silent  old  house  at  least  once  and  often 
three  times  a  week. 

The  new  order  delighted  James,  who  felt  young  again, 
and  his  hastily  improvised  suppers  were  models  of  un 
pretentious  succulence.  There  were  always  sherry  and 
whiskey  in  the  handsome  old  decanters  on  the  sideboards ; 
and,  at  the  equally  perfect  little  dinners,  for  a  time, 
two  bottles  of  Alexander  Groome 's  favorite  brand  of 
champagne  (which  he  had  remembered  with  satisfaction 
on  his  deathbed  that  he  had  not  outlived)  were  brought 
up  from  the  cellar  by  the  beaming  James. 

When,  almost  with  tears,  he  informed  his  mistress' 
husband  that  the  last  bottle  had  been  served  Mortimer 
could  do  no  less  than  order  up  a  case.  He  had  not  the 
courage  either  to  give  his  guests  the  excellent  native 
claret  where  they  had  formerly  enjoyed  imported  cham 
pagne  or  to  appear  a  " piker"  in  the  eyes  of  the  far 
from  democratic  family  butler. 

He  consoled  himself  with  the  reflection  that  it  was 
"good  business."  Nearly  all  the  young  men,  married 
or  otherwise,  that  came  to  his  house  (Alexina  subtly  en 
couraged  him  to  call  it  his  house)  were  of  more  or  less 
importance  or  standing  in  the  world  of  business  and 
finance  (two  were  lawyers  in  their  first  flight,  Bascom 
Luning  and  Jimmie  Thorne),  and  the  more  prosperous 
he  appeared  to  be  (they  knew  to  a  dollar  the  extent  of 
Alexina 's  income)  the  more  apt  would  business  be  to 
flow  his  way,  the  less  likely  they  would  be  to  suspect  him 


176          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

of  playing  the  stock  market.  At  all  events  it  enhanced 
his  standing  and  gave  him  intense  pleasure. 

Moreover,  as  time  passed  it  became  evident  to  his  sensi 
tive  ego  that  he  was  no  longer  looked  upon  as  an  out 
sider.  He  was  accepted  as  a  matter  of  course.  He  was 
one  of  them.  Neither  men  nor  women  (not  even  Aileen) 
continued  to  ask  themselves  whether  they  liked  him  or 
not.  He  was  there  and  to  stay  and  that  was  the  end  of 
it.  They  had  always  liked  his  manners;  he  made  a 
charming  host,  and,  as  ever,  he  danced  like  '  *  a  god  with 
wings  on  his  heels." 

Quite  naturally  in  due  course  some  one  offered  to  put 
him  up  at  the  most  exclusive  and  the  most  expensive 
club  west  of  New  York,  a  club  to  which  every  Californian 
with  any  pretence  to  fashion  or  importance  belonged  as 
a  matter  of  course.  Old  men  whose  names  had  once 
been  potent  in  the  great  banks  or  firms  of  the  valleys 
below,  sat  and  gazed  with  sad  and  rheumy  eyes  down 
upon  the  new  city  in  which  there  was  barely  a  familiar 
landmark  to  remind  them  of  their  youth  or  the  years  of 
their  power  and  their  pride.  They  sat  there  all  day 
long,  day  after  day ;  and  tourists  went  away  with  the  im 
pression  that  the  imposing  brown  stone  mansion  on  the 
sacred  crest  of  Nob  Hill  was  a  sumptuously  endowed  re 
treat  for  the  incurably  aged. 

But  the  majority  of  its  members  were  very  much  alive 
and  still  well-padded;  and,  far  from  being  on  a  pale 
diet,  were  deeply  appreciative  of  the  famous  culinary 
resources  of  the  chef,  and  showed  it. 

When  the  offer  was  made  to  Mortimer  he  accepted  with 
a  bright : ' '  Oh,  thanks,  old  chap.  I  'd  like  it  immensely. ' ' 
But  when,  on  the  first  day  of  his  membership,  he  stood 
in  one  of  the  front  windows  and  gazed  out  at  the  ruins 
opposite — the  Pacific  Union  Club  and  the  Fairmont  Ho 
tel  were  still  two  oases  in  the  rubbled  waste  of  Nob  Hill — 
he  felt  so  exultant  and  so  happy  that  he  dared  not  open 
his  lips  lest  he  betray  himself.  He  could  mount  no  higher 
socially.  All  that  he  had  to  strive  for  now  was  his  mil 
lion — or  millions.  When  he  had  half  a  million  he  would 
build  a  house  at  Burlingame  that  could  be  enlarged  from 
time  to  time. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          177! 

Only  with  the  * c  Rincona  crowd ' '  he  had  made  no  head 
way.  Maria  did  not  hesitate  to  comment  on  the  extrava 
gance  of  doing  the  house  over,  the  membership  at  the 
club  with  all  it  entailed,  Alexina 's  little  electric  car, 
and  above  all  the  constant  entertaining.  A  moderate 
amount  was  due  Alexina's  position;  but  open  house — 
nothing  made  money  fly  so  quickly.  Prices  were  getting 
higher  every  day  (there  came  a  time,  in  the  wake  of 
the  great  war,  when  she  looked  back  with  sad  amazement 
at  the  morning  of  her  discontent)  and  rich  people  were 
getting  richer  while  poor  people  like  themselves  (she 
meant  what  Alexina  still  called  the  A.  A.)  were  growing 
poorer. 

Tom  Abbott  had  not  put  Mortimer  up  at  the  club. 
He  happened  to  know  that  although  his  brother-in-law 
was  doing  fairly  well  he  was  not  making  a  fortune,  and 
suspected  that  he  dabbled  in  stocks.  But  he  said  noth 
ing  of  this  to  his  wife,  and  as  he  knew  that  Alexina  had 
long  since  revoked  her  power  of  attorney  (she  had  given 
him  to  understand  that  this  was  done  at  Mortimer's  sug 
gestion)  he  believed  that  her  money  at  least  was  safe. 


CHAPTER  III 


A  LEXINA,  although  she  would  have  found  it  impos- 
•**•  sible,  even  if  she  had  so  desired,  to  relapse  into 
the  incognitance  of  the  years  preceding  her  mother's 
death,  had  nevertheless  locked  and  sealed  and  cellared 
her  ivory  tower,  those  depths  of  her  nature  where,  she 
suspected,  her  true  ego  dwelt.  It  was  an  ego  she  had 
forfeited  the  right  to  indulge,  nor  had  she  at  this  time 
any  desire  to  know  more  of  herself  than  she  did.  Life 
after  all  was  very  pleasant;  she  managed  to  fill  it  with 
many  little  and  even  a  few  absorbing  interests ;  and  once 
she  spent  a  month  at  Santa  Barbara  chaperoning  Janet 
Maynard,  where  her  duties  sat  lightly  upon  her  and  she 
would  have  responded  naturally  if  addressed  as  Miss 


178          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

Groome,  so  completely  did  Mortimer  fade  into  the  back 
ground.  In  the  summer  of  nineteen-thirteen  Judge 
Lawton  and  Aileen  overcame  all  protests  and  took  her  ( 
with  them  to  Europe,  where,  after  a  month  in  Paris,  she 
visited  Olive  de  Morsigny  in  her  renaissance  chateau  on 
the  Loire.  The  memory  of  Gathbroke  revisited  her  and 
she  half-wished  the  Judge  would  go  to  England,  but  the 
climate  did  not  agree  with  him,  and  after  a  few  more 
enchanted  weeks,  in  Italy  and  Spain,  she  returned  to 
Mortimer,  who  was  distinctly  duller  than  ever. 

But  she  had  reconciled  herself  long  since  to  the  dull 
ness  of  her  life-partner;  he  could  not  help  it  and  she 
had  willfully  married  him  in  the  face  of  as  imposing  a 
phalanx  of  family  and  friendly  opposition  as  ever  at 
tempted  to  stand  between  a  girl  and  her  fate. 

Nevertheless,  immediately  after  her  return  from  Santa 
Barbara  in  the  late  autumn  of  nineteen-eleven,  and 
wholly  without  analysis  or  pondering,  she  made  a  signifi 
cant  change  in  the  order  of  her  life.  Mortimer,  who 
had,  during  her  absence,  occupied  a  large  room  at  the 
back  of  the  house  visited  by  the  afternoon  sun,  found 
himself  invited  to  retain  it.  ...  They  must  avoid  the 
least  possibility  of  a  family  until  they  were  better  off. 
.  .  .  She  had  been  hearing  the  subject  discussed  .  .  . 
the  most  economical  baby  cost  fifty  dollars  a  month. 
With  a  permanent  trained  nurse,  and  of  course  they 
would  have  one,  the  cost  would  easily  be  doubled  .  .  . 
thousands  were  required  for  the  proper  education  of  a 
child  .  .  .  even  if  she  had  girls  she  should  wish  them  to 
go  to  college ;  she  was  not  half  educated  herself  .  .  .  and 
boys,  with  their  extravagances,  their  debts,  they  cost  a 
mint ;  it  was  better  for  children  to  be  born  outright  in 
the  humbler  classes  than  to  be  born  into  a  rich  set  with 
out  riches  themselves  ...  it  all  put  her  in  a  panic  every 
time  she  thought  of  it.  ...  Morty  was  so  sensible  and 
had  such  a  high  sense  of  responsibility,  of  course  he  un 
derstood  .  .  .  children,  even  when  small,  would  hamper 
him  fearfully,  especially  as  he  had  not  even  begun  to 
make  his  million.  ...  As  for  herself  she  would  be  more 
economical  than  ever  and  help  him  like  the  good  pal  she 
was. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          179 

Mortimer  had  the  sensation  of  being  trussed  up  with 
invisible  but  inflexible  silken  thongs.  His  thoughts  need 
not  be  recorded. 


Alexina  refurnished  her  bedroom  in  her  favorite  peri 
winkle  blue ;  a  low  graceful  day-bed  with  a  screen  before 
the  stationary  washstand  helped  to  create  the  atmos 
phere  of  a  boudoir.  It  had  an  intensely  personal  atmos 
phere  in  which  man,  more  particularly  a  lawful  hus 
band,  had  no  place. 

When  Alexina  stood  on  the  threshold  and  surveyed 
this  room,  chaste,  cool,  proud,  and  exquisitely  lovely,  she 
lifted  her  hand  and  blew  off  a  kiss,  out  of  the  window, 
wafting  away  the  memory  of  the  room  as  it  had  been. 
She  had  remarkable  powers  of  obliteration,  a  sort  of 
River  of  Lethe  among  the  backwaters  of  her  mind,  where 
she  held  below  the  surface  all  she  wished  to  forget  until 
it  ceased  to  struggle.  She  never  again  gave  a  thought 
to  her  early  relationship  with  her  husband ;  not  even  to 
the  indifference  or  distaste  which  had  followed  so  quickly 
upon  her  curiosity  and  her  determination  to  feel  roman 
tic  at  all  costs. 

m 

Subtly  she  felt  she  was  happier  than  she  had  ever  been 
even  in  those  first  weeks,  when  she  had  barred  the  gates 
of  her  fool's  paradise  behind  her;  she  felt  as  free  and 
happy  as  the  birds  skimming  over  the  beds  of  periwinkle 
below  her  window,  and  (miraculously  finding  her  sec 
ond  youth  quite  as  productive  as  her  first)  took  no  pains 
to  conceive  of  anything  better.  She  looked  neither  for 
ward  nor  back,  and  all  was  well. 

She  even  flirted  a  little,  that  being  the  fashion,  and, 
having  had  enough  of  business  men,  encouraged  the  devo 
tions  of  Bascom  Luning  and  Jimmie  Thorne.  She  saw 
them  when  they  chose  to  call  in  the  daytime,  and  regaled 
the  glowering  Mortimer  at  the  dinner  table  with  scraps  ol 
their  sapience. 

Mortimer  had  resigned  himself  long  since  to  the  sacri 
fice  of  several  of  his  bourgeois  ambitions,  among  them  to 


180          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

be  master  in  his  own  house ;  but  not  an  iota  of  his  con 
victions.  Although  it  would  not  have  occurred  to  him 
to  distrust  his  wife  if  she  had  chosen  to  sit  up  all  night 
with  a  man,  he  made  frozen  comments  upon  the  impro 
priety  of  a  woman  having  men  in  the  house  when  her 
husband  was  not  there,  sitting  out  dances  with  men,  tak 
ing  long  tramps  through  Marin  County  with  three  men 
and  no  one  for  chaperon  but  Alice  Thorndyke  and  Janet 
Maynard — shocking  flirts — whole  Sundays — with  lunch 
heaven  knew  where,  and  himself,  who  hated  tramping, 
not  included. 

But  these  grim  remonstrances  were  met  in  so  gay  a 
spirit  of  badinage  that  he  felt  ridiculous,  particularly  as 
no  powers  of  badinage  or  of  repartee  had  been  included 
in  his  own  mental  equipment;  and  he  usually  relapsed 
into  a  polite  and  bored  silence. 

He  never  had  had  much  to  say  at  the  dinner  table  when 
they  were  alone,  and,  as  time  went  on,  his  comments  on 
the  day  were  exhausted  before  the  soup  had  given  place 
to  the  entree,  and  Alexina  fell  into  the  habit  of  bringing 
her  Italian  text-book  to  the  table — the  study  of  Italian 
just  then  being  the  rage  in  her  set — and  later  whatever 
interesting  book  she  had  on  hand.  Mortimer  made  no 
protest.  His  brain  was  fagged  at  night.  It  was  a  re 
lief  not  to  be  expected  to  talk  when  they  dined  alone; 
those  long  silences  had  been  oppressive  even  to  him;  he 
rather  welcomed  the  books. 


CHAPTER  IV 

I 

HHHIS  complete  new  freedom,   and  personal  privacy, 
*   entailed  in  time  a  result  which    Alexina  would  have 
been  the  last  to  anticipate  even  if  she  had  disposed  of 
her  husband  by  death  or  divorce. 

Owing  to  the  thoroughness  of  her  mental  methods  she 
was  psychologically  free,  the  legal  tie  mattered  as  little 
as  if  Mortimer  had  been  transposed  by  some  beneficent 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          181 

law  to  the  status  of  a  brother.  The  will  when  it  is  strong 
enough  can  control  acts,  and,  when  favored  by  bias, 
thought ;  but  it  has  no  command  whatever  over  the  sub- 
consciousness,  and  in  that  mysterious  region  are  the 
subtle  inheritances  of  mind  and  character,  the  springs 
and  the  direction  of  all  functional  life;  a  fate  with  a 
thousand  threads  on  her  wheel,  filaments  from  the  souls 
and  the  bodies,  the  minds  and  the  acts,  of  every  ancestor 
straight  back  to  that  vast  impersonal  ocean  where,  un 
thinkable  millions  of  years  ago  proemial  life  awaited  the 
call  of  the  worlds. 

This  aged  untiring  fate  at  the  wheel  battles  unceas 
ingly  with  the  conscious  mind  above,  for  age  is  prone 
to  live  by  law  and  rote.  These  fates,  the  oldest  daugh 
ters  of  the  Earth-Mother,  Nature,  know  nothing  of 
morals  or  manners,  assume  that  men  and  women  are  as 
naive  in  their  normality  as  the  denizens  of  forest  and 
field.  And  so  they  are  while  children. 


II 

The  eternal  pull  between  civilizing  Mind  (Oh,  cen 
turies  yet  from  being  civilized ! )  and  the  memoried  but 
obstinate  old  lady  at  the  wheel  (who  laughs  when  a  man 
of  powerful  will  and  too  active  mind  "wills"  sleep ;  forc 
ing  him  finally  to  choose  between  the  horrors  of  insomnia, 
the  insidious  tyranny  of  drugs,  and  the  doubtful  and 
wearisome  alternative  of  psycho  therapeutics) — this  pull, 
automatic  in  people  of  low  estate,  becomes  bitter  and 
often  appalling  where  the  mind  is  highly  developed  and 
attuned  besides  to  the  codes  and  customs  of  the  best  that 
civilization  has  so  far  accomplished. 

The  most  vital  of  all  these  functions,  for  without  it 
Mother  Earth  would  be  like  an  ant  hill  without  ants,  and 
all  these  ancient  norms  of  daughters  as  homeless  as  the 
rest  of  the  fates,  is  what  man  in  a  spirit  of  social  com 
promise  has  labeled  an  instinct — the  sex-instinct.  It  is 
no  more  an  instinct  than  recurring  sleep,  lymphatic  ac 
tion,  hunger,  thirst,  alimentation.  It  is  a  primal  func 
tion  for  which  Mind,  wisely  foreseeing  the  consequences 
of  too  much  Nature,  long  since  created  laws  both  civil 


182          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

and  social  to  curb.  There  are  many  impulses,  inherited 
from  ten  thousand  ancestors  and  constantly  jogged  by 
Earth's  busy  agent,  human  nature,  that  may  logically  be 
called  instincts  (their  roots  lying  in  the  ancient  social 
groups  and  their  struggle  to  exist)  but  not  a  function 
that  governs  the  law  of  reproduction,  as  appetite  governs 
the  law  of  renewing  the  vital  necessities  of  the  body. 


in 

In  the  Latin  races  the  conscious  war  between  the  brain 
above  and  the  sub-ego  below,  with  the  latter 's  constant 
reminders  that  mind  is  a  mere  excrescence,  often  warped 
or  ill-directed,  at  the  apex  of  the  perfect  body,  is  almost 
negligible.  Even  when  moral  their  lack  of  reticence, 
their  practical  logic,  their  habit  of  facing  every  fact  per 
taining  to  life,  psychical  and  physical,  as  squarely  as 
they  face  a  simple  question  of  hunger  and  thirst,  above 
all  their  almost  complete,  lack  of  that  modern  develop 
ment  called  romance,  which  has  given  birth  to  a  peculiar 
form  of  personal  imagination,  too  often  without  founda 
tion  or  logic — all  these  preclude  that  most  active  of  all 
mental  aids  to  the  matter  of  fact  needs  of  the  body — 
glamour. 

But  it  is  far  otherwise  with  the  English-speaking  races 
— loosely  called  Anglo-Saxon.  They  are  powerfully 
sexed;  their  feelings  and  sentiments  go  deeper  than  is 
possible  to  those  of  more  ebullient  temperament  but  fatal 
clarity  of  vision;  refinement  of  mind  and  habit  and 
manner  is  perhaps  the  most  precious  of  their  achieve 
ments,  and  they  have  established  a  code  which  not  only 
demands  rectitude  of  act  but  suppression  of  thought  arid 
desire  where  there  is  no  lawful  outlet. 

Nothing,  possibly,  has  more  infuriated  the  old  lady  at 
the  methodically  performing  wheel  than  this.  She  takes 
her  revenge  and  squirts  poison  into  the  physical  struc 
ture  of  the  brain,  obscures  the  soul  with  dark  and  brood 
ing  clouds,  and  subtly  reduces  the  blood  system  to  such  a 
state  that  any  germ  is  welcome. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  183 

IV 

Once  more  Mind  uses  its  highest  faculties  and  outwits 
her,  having  no  intention  that  civilization  shall  drop  be 
low  the  plane  to  which  it  has  been  raised  through  long 
laborious  centuries  of  time.  Life  becomes  more  diverse, 
more  complex.  The  middle  classes  work  harder  to  live ; 
they  have  little  leisure  for  thoughts,  for  introspection. 
Punishment  is  dire.  .  .  .  Those  that  have  leisure  and  yet 
not  enough  to  command  the  more  brilliant  and  special 
forms  of  distraction  are  supplied  with  public  libraries, 
gymnasiums,  free  medical  advice  regarding  the  laws  of 
hygiene  in  places  where  they  cannot  fail  to  see  it,  new 
forms  of  cheap  amusement;  they  are  subtly  encouraged 
to  take  up  useful  work  or  study ;  or  there  are  increasing 
pressures  which  may  force  even  this  semi-leisure  class 
to  work  for  luxuries  if  not  for  bread.  Tens  of  thousands 
of  women  are  led  into  the  passionate  diversions  of 
club  life.  For  them,  too,  politics  with  its  fierce  cham 
pionships  and  hatreds  and  frictions;  the  necessity  of 
concentration  of  thought  on  the  impersonal  plane  if 
only  in  the  matter  of  getting  the  best  of  rivals  within 
the  fold ;  and  if  hair  flies  souls  are  saved. 

Over  the  Oldest  Profession  Mind  still  scratches  its  head 
in  vain.  It  is  ever  hopeful,  and  hamstrings  a  sovereign 
patron,  like  alcohol,  now  and  again ;  but  the  lady  at  the 
wheel  smiles,  for  here,  in  addition  to  the  unquenchable 
maternal  instinct,  the  ignorance  of  the  poor,  and  the 
glamour  that  the  men  of  certain  races  have  learned  to 
give  to  love,  she  has  her  clearest  field. 

Aside  from  the  women  of  commerce  there  are,  of 
course,  many  secret  rebels — now  and  then  only  does  one 
make  her  exit  from  society  through  the  courts.  The  vast 
majority  of  Anglo-Saxons  in  whatever  clime  or  capital, 
suppress  their  " unrefined"  appetites  or  vagrant  fancies 
— which  are  vibrations  from  the  wheel ;  sometimes  hard 
jerks  when  the  presiding  genius  is  more  than  commonly 
out  of  patience — and  rise  to  serene  heights  or  grow  mor 
bid  and  irritable  according  to  the  strength  or  the  meager- 
ness  of  their  equipment ;  or  the  nature  of  their  resources. 
A  cultivated  resource  is  a  persistent  fiction  that  life  is 


184          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

as  it  ought  to  be,  not  as  it  is,  and  it  is  no  plan  of  theirs 
to  read  books  or  witness  plays  that  might  carve  and 
populate  a  new  groove  in  their  brains. 

Let  no  one  imagine  that  this  class  will  become  more 
"enlightened,"  "broader,"  as  time  goes  on.  Not  for  a 
century  at  least.  Mind  has  made  too  great  a  success  of 
this  product ;  she  has  practically  achieved  a  complete  tri 
umph  over  the  lady  at  the  wheel.  It  is  this  class  that 
has  made  civilization,  progress,  the  solid  thing  it  is  to 
date.  The  excrescences,  the  deserters  from  the  normal, 
scintillating  or  subtle,  may  be  tolerated  for  the  spice  they 
give  to  life  but  they  will  never  rule. 

Possibly  they  do  not  mind.  Life  is  made  up  of  com 
promises  and  compensations. 


American  women  in  youth,  of  the  visibly  reputable 
world,  may  be  freely  divided  into  two  classes,  the  over 
sexed  and  those  that  seem  cold  to  themselves  and  others 
until  they  are  well  into  the  period  of  their  second  youth 
— between  twenty-four  and  thirty ;  and  a  not  inconsider 
able  number  are  so  and  permanently.  In  the  first  case 
they  either  precipitate  themselves  into  matrimony  or 
have  one  or  more  intrigues  until  they  find  the  man  they 
wish  to  marry,  when  they  settle  down  and  make  excel 
lent  wives.  The  others,  if  they  are  imaginative  and  high- 
minded,  fall  in  love  romantically  and  marry  far  too 
soon ;  or  they  capitalize  their  youth  or  beauty  and  marry 
to  the  best  advantage ;  or  they  elect  to  live  a  life  of  serene 
spinsterhood  like  Alexina  's  Aunt  Clara,  and  bring  up  the 
family  children.  A  not  inconsiderable  number  take  their 
fling  late. 

When  the  American  girl  of  the  super-refined  class,  and 
whose  baleful  norm  in  the  crypt  was  asleep  at  the  wheel 
in  her  first  blind  youth,  finds  herself  disappointed  in  the 
most  intimate  partnership  that  exists,  the  complaisance, 
voluntary  at  the  beginning,  drifts  into  habit,  more  and 
more  grimly  endured.  Some  have  the  moral  courage  to 
put  an  end  to  it  as  they  would  to  any  false  situation, 
but  if  individuals  were  not  rare  in  this  world  we  should 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  185 

have  chaos,  not  a  civilization  of  sorts  which  is  a  pleasant 
place  to  plant  the  feet,  however  high  into  the  clouds  the 
head  may  poke  its  investigating  nose. 

It  is  natural  that  with  such  women  during  the  period 
of  endurance  all  love  should  seem  distasteful,  and  the 
mind  dwell  upon  any  other  subject.  But  remove  the 
cause  of  sex-inertia  and  there  is  likely  to  be  the  stir  and 
awakening  of  spring  after  a  long  monotonous  winter  of 
hard  frost  and  blanketing  snow.  Or  a  homelier  simile: 
remove  the  cause  of  chronic  indigestion  and  the  appetite 
becomes  fresh  and  normal. 

Thus  Alexina. 


CHAPTER  V 


CAN  FRANCISCO,  commencing  in  September,  has 
P  three  or  four  months  of  perfect  weather.  The  cold 
fogs  and  winds  cease  to  pay  their  daily  visits,  the  rainy 
season  awaits  the  new  year.  The  skies  are  a  deep  and 
cloudless  blue,  the  air  is  warm  and  soft  and  alluring, 
never  too  hot,  although  the  overcoats  of  summer  are  dis 
carded. 

The  city  lies  bathed  in  golden  sunlight  or  the  sharp 
jeweled  light  of  stars,  when  the  moon  is  not  blazing  like 
a  crystal  bonfire.  Then  Mount  Tamalpais  and  other 
mountains  across  the  Bay  and  behind  the  city  take  on 
a  chiseled  outline  that,  particularly  at  night,  makes  them 
look  curiously  new,  as  if  but  yesterday  heaved  from  the 
deep,  and  Nature  too  busy  to  provide  them  with  a  back 
ground  and  the  soft  blurs  of  time  for  centuries  to  come. 
This  primeval  look  of  bare  California  mountains  on  clear 
nights  has  something  sinister  and  menacing  in  its  aspect 
as  if  at  any  moment  they  might  once  more  brood  alone 
over  the  earth. 


Alexina  returned  from  abroad  early  in  November  and 
stood  one  morning  outside  her  eucalyptus  grove,  revolv- 


186          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

ing  slowly  on  one  heel,  schoolgirl  fashion,  as  she  gazed 
up  at  the  steep  densely  populated  hill  that  rose  from 
the  street  below  her  own  private  little  hill,  and  cut  off 
her  view  of  the  hills  of  Berkeley  and  the  mountains  be 
yond;  at  the  broad  crowded  valleys  on  the  south;  the 
range  of  hills  that  hid  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  included 
Mount  Calvary  with  its  cross  and  the  symmetrical  mass 
of  Twin  Peaks;  the  bare  brown  mountains  of  the  north 
piling  above  the  green  sparkling  bay  with  its  wooded 
and  military  islands. 

Like  a  good  and  valiant  Californian  she  was  assuring 
herself  that  she  had  seen  nothing  like  this  in  Europe, 
and  that  she  really  preferred  it  to  art  galleries  and  di 
lapidated  old  ruins.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact  she  had 
returned  to  California  with  dragging  feet  and  was 
merely  staving  off  the  disheartening  moment  when  her 
ruthless  candor  would  force  her  to  admit  it. 

San  Francisco  was  all  very  well,  and  in  this  dazzling 
light  that  compact  mass  of  houses  swarming  over  the 
city's  hills  and  valleys,  with  sudden  palms  in  high  gar 
dens  and  a  tree  here  and  there,  produced  the  impression 
that  all  were  white  with  red  roofs,  and  looked  not  unlike 
Genoa.  But  it  seemed  quite  unromantic  and  uninspir 
ing  to  a  girl  who  had  just  paid  her  first  brief  visit  to 
the  old  world,  an  interval,  moreover,  that  had  been  with 
out  a  responsibility,  cut  her  off  so  completely  from  her 
general  life  that  when  variously  addressed  "Mademoi 
selle,"  "Signorina,"  ' '  Senorita, ' '  she  ceased  almost  at 
once  to  feel  either  surprised  or  flattered.  If  she  had  not 
forbidden  herself  to  dream  she  would  still  have  been 
Alexina  Groome  with  a  future  to  sketch  with  her  own 
adventurous  pencil ;  and  to  fill  in  at  her  pleasure. 

But  although  she  was  free  in  a  sense  she  was  not  free 
to  live  in  Europe.  She  was  a  partner  with  a  partner's 
obligations.  To  desert  Mortimer  would  not  only  be  to 
banish  him  from  Ballinger  House  to  dreary  bachelor 
quarters,  with  none  of  the  comforts  and  little  luxuries 
he  intensely  loved,  but  it  would  also  deprive  him  of  his 
surest  social  prop.  People  had  accepted  him  and  liked 
him  as  well  as  they  liked  the  totally  uninteresting  of 
the  good  old  stock ;  but  many  would  drift  into  the  habit 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          187 

of  not  inviting  him  to  anything  but  large  dances,  if  his 
wife  were  absent.  Alexina  knew  that  her  invitations  to 
all  important  and  many  small  dinners,  not  avowedly 
bridge  or  poker  parties,  were, as  inevitable  as  crab  in 
season;  but  there  were  too  many  young  men  whom  girls 
would  infinitely  prefer  to  enliven  the  monotony  of  crab 
a  la  poulette,  to  any  married  man,  particularly  one  who 
had  as  little  to  say  as  poor  Morty.  She  had  known 
debutantes  who  flatly  refused  to  dance  with  married  men 
or  even  to  be  introduced  to  them. 

California  was  her  fate.  No  doubt  of  that.  She  might 
never  see  Europe  again,  for  while  it  was  all  very  well  to 
be  a  guest  once  it  would  be  quite  impossible  another  time. 
She  certainly  could  not  afford  it  herself  and  keep  Bal- 
linger  House  open,  even  for  brief  summer  visits ;  as  she 
might  if  her  home  were  in  New  York. 

Of  course  Mortimer  might  make  his  million,  but  then 
again  he  might  not.  Certainly  there  were  no  present 
signs  of  it  and  she  had  never  seen  him  so  depressed,  not 
even  during  the  panic  of  nineteen-seven.  His  eyes  were 
as  lifeless  as  slate,  his  voice  was  flat,  although  for  that 
matter  he  was  almost  dumb.  When  at  home  he  sat 
brooding  heavily  by  the  open  western  windows  of  the 
drawing-room,  or  moved  restlessly  about.  To  all  her 
questions  he  replied  shortly  that  the  times  were 
bad  again,  worse  than  ever;  that  he  was  holding 
his  own,  but  was  tired,  tired  out.  As  she  had 
not  been  there  he  had  not  cared  to  take  a  cottage 
by  himself,  and  had  paid  few  week-end  visits.  He  had 
nothing  to  talk  to  women  about  and  the  men  talked  of 
nothing  but  the  business  depression.  .  .  .  Alexina  had 
shrugged  her  shoulders  and  concluded  that  his  attitude 
was  a  subtle  reproach  for  leaving  him  to  the  dull  cares 
of  business  while  she  enjoyed  herself  in  Europe. 

She  was  not  in  the  least  sorry  for  Mortimer.  He  had 
been  perfectly  comfortable ;  he  had  had  his  friends ;  she 
had  left  him  a  sum  of  money  which  with  the  monthly 
rents  from  the  flats  would  pay  her  share  in  the  household 
expenses ;  he  could  spend  his  free  afternoons  at  the  golf 
club  by  the  ocean,  and  his  evenings,  when  not  invited 
out,  at  the  temple  of  his  idolatry  on  Nob  Hill.  James 


188          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

was  a  better  housekeeper  than  she  was  and  it  was  now 
two  years  that  Mortimer  had  been  living  the  life  of  a 
luxurious  bachelor  at  the  back  of  the  house  with  an  al 
ways  amiable  companion  at  breakfast  and  dinner. 


m 

Alexina,  as  she  stood  shading  her  eyes  from  the  bril 
liant  sunlight  and  watching  a  great  liner  drift  through 
the  Golden  Gate,  wondered  if  Morty  had  consoled  him 
self,  and  if  his  Puritanical  conscience  were  flaying  him. 
She  hoped  that  he  had,  for  she  was  quite  willing  that  he 
should  be  happy  in  his  own  way,  poor  thing,  so  long  as 
he  secluded  his  divagations  from  the  world — and  she 
could  trust  him  to  do  that !  Now  that  she  had  ceased  to  be 
the  complaisant  bored  wife  with  dull  nerves  and  torpid 
imagination  she  would  be  the  last  to  condemn  him.  Hu 
man  Nature  was  an  ever  opening  book  to  her  these  days, 
and  she  wondered  what  would  happen  to  herself  if  any 
of  several  men  she  liked  were  capable  of  making  her  love 
him,  whipping  up  a  personal  storm  in  those  emotional 
gulfs  which  had  slowly  and  inflexibly  intruded  them 
selves  upon  her  consciousness. 

She  had  pondered  long  and  deeply  on  this  subject,  par 
ticularly  in  the  old  world  where  bonds  seem  looser  to 
the  mere  observer  whether  they  are  or  not,  and  where 
life  looks  to  the  American  the  quintessence  of  romance. 
.  .  .  She  had  concluded  that  the  most  satisfactory  experi 
ence  that  could  come  to  her  would  be  a  mad  love  affair 
"in  the  air"  with  a  man  who  possessed  all  the  require 
ments  to  induce  it,  but  who  would  either  be  the  unsus 
pecting  object,  or,  reciprocating,  would  continue  to  love 
her  with  the  world  between  them. 

For  she  shrank  from  the  disillusionments  of  secret 
libertinage ;  she  did  not,  indeed,  believe  that  love  could 
survive  it,  although  passion  might  for  a  time.  Passion 
was  unthinkable  to  her  without  love,  and  when  she  re 
called  the  mean  and  sordid  devices  to  which  two  of  her 
friends  were  put  to  to  meet  their  lovers  she  felt  nothing 
but  disgust  for  the  whole  drama  of  man  and  woman. 

Alexina  had  been  reared  on  the  soundest  moral  prin- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          189 

ciples  of  church  and  society,  to  say  nothing  of  the  law, 
but  the  norm  at  the  wheel  has  often  laughed  in  her  amia 
ble  way  at  church  and  society  and  law  when  circum 
stances  have  conspired  to  help  her.  But  against  fastid 
iousness  even  the  blind  urge  of  the  race  seldom  has 
availed  her ;  she  can  only  go  on  sullenly  feeding  the  fires, 
heaping  on  the  fuel,  hoping  grimly  for  the  astrological 
moment. 

IV 

Alexina  shrugged  her  shoulders  impatiently  and  went 
into  the  house.  She  would  go  down  to  the  bank  and 
clip  her  coupons.  She  cultivated  assiduously  the  prac 
tical  side  of  life,  making  the  most  of  it,  delighted  when 
repairs  were  needed  on  her  flats,  regretting  that  the 
greater  part  of  her  income  came  from  ground  rents,  col 
lected,  as  ever,  by  Tom  Abbott,  and  bonds,  from  which 
she  still  experienced  a  childish  pleasure  in  cutting  the 
coupons.  Her  flats,  which  were  in  a  humbler  part  of  the 
western  division  of  the  city,  she  had  never  visited, 
but  she  received  a  call  every  month  from  the  agent,  who 
brought  her  the  rents  and  complaints. 

She  had  made  a  heroic  effort  to  turn  herself  into  a 
business  woman  but  the  material  had  been  too  slender; 
and  she  sometimes  wished  for  a  large  independent  for 
tune  that  would  tax  her  powers  to  the  utmost.  But  she 
never  even  had  any  surplus  to  invest.  Her  wardrobe 
was  no  inconsiderable  item;  living  prices  rose  steadily; 
there  were  repairs  both  on  her  own  house  and  the  flats 
to  be  anticipated  every  year,  to  say  nothing  of  the  fiend 
ish  sum  that  must  be  set  aside  for  taxes.  But  she  man 
aged  to  save  the  necessary  amount;  and  if  they  lived 
somewhat  extravagantly,  at  least  she  had  never  dis 
turbed  her  capital. 

On  the  whole  she  knew  they  had  managed  very  well  for 
young  people  who  lived  so  much  in  the  world,  and  she 
had  no  intention  of  economizing  further.  They  had  no 
children.  Her  husband  was  young  and  energetic  and 
healthy.  Her  own  little  fortune  was  secure.  She  pur 
posed  to  enjoy  life  as  best  she  could;  and  as  she  could 
not  have  done  this  quite  selfishly  and  been  happy,  she  in- 


190          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

eluded  among  her  yearly  expenditures  a  certain  admira 
ble  charity  presided  over  by  her  equally  admirable  sister, 
and  even  visited  it  occasionally  with  her  friends  when  a 
serious  mood  descended  abruptly  upon  them.  .  .  .  She 
was  now  on  the  threshold  of  her  second  beautiful  youth, 
and  found  herself  and  life  far  more  interesting  than 
when,  a  silly  girl  of  eighteen,  she  had  believed  that  all 
life  and  romance  must  be  crowded  into  that  callow  pe 
riod.  She  had  no  idea  of  sacrificing  this  new  era  vibrat 
ing  with  unknown  possibilities  (it  was  on  the  cards  that 
she  might  resurrect  Gathbroke  from  his  ivory  tomb;  he 
would  do  admirably  for  her  present  needs,  and  when  she 
found  it  difficult  to  visualize  him  after  so  long  a  period, 
she  could  pay  Gora  a  sisterly  visit)  to  a  penurious  at 
tempt  to  increase  her  capital.  At  the  same  time  she  had 
no  intention  of  diminishing  it.  To  quote  Tom  Abbott 
(when  Maria  was  elsewhere) :  She  might  be  a  fool,  or 
even  a fool,  but  she  was  not  a fool. 


She  dressed  herself  in  a  black  velvet  suit  made  by  her 
New  York  tailors.  She  had  spent  a  fortnight  with  her 
brother  Ballinger  on  her  way  home,  and  he  had  given  her 
a  set  of  silver  fox :  a  large  muff  and  two  of  those  price 
less  animals  head  to  head  to  keep  a  small  section  of  her 
anatomy  at  blood  heat  in  a  climate  never  cold  enough  for 
furs. 

The  day  was  hot.  It  was  the  sort  of  weather  which 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  continent  arrives  when  spring 
is  melting  into  summer  and  fortunate  woman  arrays  her 
self  in  thin  and  dainty  fabrics.  But  women  everywhere 
with  a  proper  regard  for  fashion  rush  the  season,  and 
autumn  is  the  time  to  display  the  first  smart  habiliments 
of  winter.  No  San  Francisco  woman  of  fashion  would 
be  guilty  of  comfortable  garments  in  the  glorious  spring 
weather  of  November  if  she  perished  in  her  furs. 

The  coat,  bound  with  silk  braid,  was  lined  with  peri 
winkle  blue,  and  there  was  a  touch  of  the  same  color  in 
her  large  black  velvet  hat.  Nothing  could  make  the 
great  irises  of  her  black-gray  eyes  look  blue,  but  they 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  191 

shone  out,  dazzling,  under  the  drooping  brim;  and  if 
she  was,  perchance,  too  warm  above,  her  scant  skirt,  her 
thin  silk  stockings  and  low  patent  leather  shoes  struck 
the  balance  like  a  brilliant  paradox. 

Alexina  nodded  approvingly  at  her  image  in  the  pier 
glass,  found  the  key  of  her  safe  deposit  box  in  the  cabinet 
where  she  had  left  it,  and  went  down  to  the  smart  little 
electric  car  which  the  gardener  had  brought  to  the  door. 


CHAPTER  VI 


ALEXINA  stood  alone  in  the  strong  room  of  the 
bank  leaning  heavily  against  the  wall  with  its  end 
less  rows  of  compartments  from  one  of  which  she  had 
taken  the  dispatch  box  in  which  she  had  kept  her  bonds. 

The  box  had  fallen  to  the  floor.  If  there  had  been 
any  one  in  the  room  with  her  he  would  have  started  and 
turned  as  the  box  clanged  with  a  hollow  echo  on  the 
steel  surface. 

The  box  was  empty. 

It  was  a  large  box.  It  had  contained  forty  thousand 
dollars'  worth  of  bonds,  nearly  a  third  of  her  fortune. 
The  securities  were  among  the  soundest  the  country 
afforded,  for  Alexander  Groome,  wild  as  he  may  have 
been  when  relieving  the  monotony  of  life  with  too  many 
diversions,  not  the  least  of  which  was  speculation,  never 
made  a  mistake  in  his  permanent  investments ;  and  others 
had  been  bought  with  equal  prudence  by  Judge  Lawton 
or  Tom  Abbott. 

But  the  bonds  had  been  negotiable.  She  recalled  Tom 
Abbott's  warning  to  keep  them  always  in  her  safe  de 
posit  box  and  the  key  hidden.  They  might  be  traced  if 
stolen,  but  State's  Prison  for  the  thief  would  be  cold 
comfort  if  the  bonds  had  been  cashed  and  the  money 
spent. 

She  had  always  had  one  of  the  lighter  Italian  pieces 
in  her  bedroom,  a  beautiful  cabinet  of  carved  and  gilded 


192          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

oak  nearly  black  with  age.  Like  all  such  it  had  a  secret 
drawer  and  here  she  had  kept  her  keys,  and  her  jewels 
during  the  winter. 

Who  knew  of  this  secret  drawer,  which  opened  by 
pressing  a  certain  little  gilded  face  on  the  panel?  .  .  . 
All  her  friends,  of  course:  Aileen,  Sibyl,  Alice,  Olive, 
Janet,  Helene.  .  .  .  Unthinkable  to  have  a  secret  drawer 
in  an  old  Italian  cabinet  which  had  belonged  to  some 
Borgia  or  other,  and  not  exhibit  it  to  one 's  chosen  friends. 

She  had  even  shown  it  to  Gora,  but  to  no  one  else  but 
Mortimer.  She  had  kept  his  love  letters  in  it  for  a  time, 
written  while  the  family  was  applying  the  polite  methods 
of  the  modern  inquisition  at  Rincona.  They  had  re 
mained  there,  forgotten,  until  her  mother's  death,  when 
she  had  remembered  the  secret  drawer  as  a  safe  hiding 
place  for  her  keys  and  jewels;  which,  with  her  mother's, 
had  formerly  reposed  in  the  safe  under  the  stairs. 

It  was  a  deep  drawer  and  when  she  was  in  town  held 
the  few  valuable  stones,  reset,  that  she  had  inherited 
from  her  mother,  besides  the  fine  pieces  she  had  received 
as  wedding-gifts ;  when  all  the  old  friends  of  the  family 
out-did  themselves,  and  not  a  few  of  the  less  distin 
guished  but  more  opulent,  whose  floors  Alexina  had 
graced  while  her  mother  slept.  Her  pearl  necklace  had 
been  the  present  of  her  more  intimate  group  of  friends. 

Alexina  was  not  a  little  proud  of  her  collection  of 
jewels,  although  she  seldom  wore  anything  but  her 
pearls.  She  had  left  it  when  she  went  abroad,  in  the 
safe  deposit  vault,  and  she  sent  a  quick  terrified  glance 
in  the  coffer's  direction  like  that  of  a  cornered  rat. 

But  her  attention  riveted  itself  once  more  on  the  empty 
box  at  her  feet.  A  third  of  her  fortune,  and  gone  be 
yond  redemption.  Her  stunned  mind  grasped  that  fact 
at  once.  No  one  stole  bonds  to  keep  them.  But  who  was 
the  thief? 

Not  any  of  her  old  friends.  They  might  gamble,  or 
drink,  or  deceive  their  legal  guardians,  but  they  drew 
the  line  at  stealing.  Certain  sins  lie  within  the  social 
code  and  others  do  not.  Women  of  her  class,  unless 
kleptomaniac,  did  not  steal.  It  wasn  't  done.  With  rea 
son  or  unreason  they  classed  thieves  of  any  sort  with  har- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          193 

lots,  burglars,  firebugs,  embezzlers,  forgers,  murderers, 
and  common  people  who  overdressed  and  drank  too  much 
in  public ;  and  withdrew  their  skirts. 

Moreover,  Aileen  had  been  with  her  in  Europe.  Olive 
lived  there.  Janet  and  Sibyl  had  more  money  than  they 
could  spend.  The  Ruylers  were  ranching,  and  Helene 
was  in  Adler's  Sanatorium  with  a  new  baby.  Alice  had 
gone  to  Santa  Barbara  before  she  left  and  had  not  re 
turned. 

It  was  insulting  even  to  pass  them  in  review,  but  the 
mind  works  in  erratic  curves  under  shock. 

Gora  had  taken  the  thousand  dollars  Mortimer  had 
returned  to  her  and  gone  first  to  Lake  Tahoe  and  then 
to  Honolulu  to  write  a  novel.  She  would  return  on  the 
morrow. 

Mortimer. 

It  was  incredible.  Monstrous.  She  was  outrageous 
even  to  link  his  name  with  such  a  deed.  He  was  the 
soul  of  honor.  He  might  not  be  a  genius  but  no  man 
had  a  cleaner  reputation.  She  had  lived  with  him  now 
for  over  six  years  and  she  had  never  .  .  .  never  .  .  . 
never  .  .  . 

And  she  knew,  unconsentingly,  infallibly,  that  Morti 
mer  had  stolen  the  bonds. 


CHAPTER  VII 


A  LEXINA  drew  the  jewel  coffer  from  the  depths  of 
^*  the  compartment  and  opened  it  with  fingers  that 
felt  swollen  and  numb.  But  the  jewels  were  there,  and 
,she  experienced  a  feeling  of  fleeting  satisfaction.  They 
were  no  part  of  her  fortune,  for  she  believed  that  only 
want  would  ever  induce  her  to  sell  them,  but  at  least 
they  were  her  own  personal  treasure  and  a  part  of  the 
beauty  of  life. 

She  returned  the  fallen  box  to  its  place  and  locked 
the  little  cupboard,  then  took  herself  in  hand.    Neither 


194          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

the  keeper  outside  the  door  of  the  vault  nor  those  she  met 
above  must  suspect  that  anything  was  w^ong  with  her. 
What  she  should  do  she  had  no  idea  at  the  moment,  but 
at  all  events  she  must  have  time  to  think. 

She  left  the  bank  with  her  usual  light  step  and  her 
head  high,  and  then  she  motored  down  the  Peninsula. 
As  she  passed  the  shipyards  she  saw  crowds  of  men 
standing  about;  some  of  them  turned  and  scowled  after 
her.  They  were  on  strike  and  took  her  no  doubt  for  the 
wife  or  daughter  of  a  millionaire;  and  in  truth  there 
was  never  any  difference  superficially  in  her  appearance 
from  that  of  her  wealthier  friends.  She  had  one  car  in 
stead  of  several  but  it  was  perfect  of  its  kind.  Her 
wardrobe  was  by  no  means  as  extensive  as  Sibyl's  or 
Janet 's  or  a  hundred  others,  but  what  she  had  came  from 
the  best  houses,  that  use  only  the  costliest  materials.  Her 
face  was  composed  and  proud.  There  was  not  a  signal 
out,  even  from  her  brilliant  expressive  eyes,  of  the  storm 
within. 

Her  mind  was  no  longer  stunned.  It  was  seething 
with  disgust  and  fury.  How  dared  he?  Her  own,  her 
exclusive  property,  inherited  and  separate.  .  .  .  She  felt 
at  this  moment  exactly  as  she  would  have  felt  if  her  jewel 
coffer  instead  of  the  dispatch  box  had  been  rifled ;  it  was 
the  instinct  of  possession  that  had  been  outraged.  What 
was  hers  was  hers  as  much  as  the  hair  on  her  head  or 
the  thoughts  in  her  mind  ...  an  instinct  that  harked 
back  to  the  oldest  of  the  buried  civilizations  .  .  .  she 
wondered  if  any  socialist  really  had  cultivated  the  power 
to  feel  differently.  She  was  quite  certain  that  if  Kirk- 
patrick  should  see  a  thief  fleeing  with  his  purse  he  would 
chase  him,  collar  him,  and  either  chastise  him  then  and 
there  or  drag  him  to  the  nearest  police  station. 

And  the  thief  was  her  husband,  the  man  of  her  choice. 
Alexina  felt  that  possibly  if  a  brother  had  stolen  her 
money  she  would  have  been  less  bitter  because  less  hu 
miliated  ;  one  did  not  select  one 's  brothers.  .  .  .  And  if 
she  had  still  loved  Mortimer  it  would  have  been  bad 
enough,  although  no  doubt  with  the  blindness  of  youthful 
passion  she  would  immediately  have  begun  to  make  ex 
cuses  for  him,  reeling  a  blow  as  it  would  have  been.  But 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          195 

the  one  compensation  she  had  found  in  her  matrimonial 
wilderness  was  her  pride  in  the  essential  honor  of  her 
chosen  partner,  and  her  complete  trust.  If  there  had 
been  any  necessity  for  giving  a  power  of  attorney  when 
she  went  to  Europe  she  would  have  drawn  it  in  his  favor 
without  hesitation,  so  completely  had  she  forgotten  her 
earlier  incitements  tq  precaution.  ...  If  she  had,  no 
doubt  she  would  have  returned  to  find  herself  penniless. 

Whether  he  had  stolen  the  money  to  speculate  with  or 
to  extricate  himself  from  some  business  muddle  she  did 
not  pause  to  wonder.  He  had  lost  it;  that  was  suffi 
ciently  evident  from  his  depression.  When  his  powers 
of  bluff  failed  him  matters  were  serious  indeed. 

He  had  stolen  and  lost.  The  first  would  have  been 
unforgivable  but  the  last  was  unpardonable. 

And  he  had  taken  her  money  as  he  would  have  taken 
Gora's,  or  his  parents'  had  they  been  alive,  because  how 
ever  they  might  lash  him  with  their  contempt,  his  body 
was  safe  from  prison,  his  precious  position  in  society 
unshaken.  She  knew  him  well  enough  to  be  sure  that  if 
he  had  had  forty  thousand  dollars  of  some  outsider's 
money  under  his  hand  it  would  have  been  safe  no  matter 
what  his  predicament.  He  would  have  accepted  the 
alternative  of  bankruptcy  without  hesitation. 

But  with  the  women  of  his  family  a  man  was  always 
safe.  She  remembered  something  that  Gora  had  once 
said  to  the  same  effect.  .  .  .  Yes,  she  could  have  for 
given  the  theft  of  an  outsider,  for  at  least  she  would  be 
spared  this  sickening  suffocating  sensation  of  contempt. 
It  was  demoralizing.  She  hated  herself  as  much  as  she 
hated  him.  Moreover  there  would  have  been  some  com 
pensation  in  sending  an  outsider  to  San  Quentin. 

And  there  was  the  serious  problem  of  readjusting  her 
life.  Two  thousand  dollars  out  of  a  small  income  was  a 
serious  deficit.  Simultaneously  she  was  visited  by  an 
other  horrid  thought.  Mortimer  had  heretofore  paid 
half  the  household  expenses.  No  doubt  he  was  no  longer 
in  a  position  to  pay  any.  They  would  have  to  live,  keep 
up  Ballinger  House,  dress,  pay  taxes,  subscribe  to  chari 
ties,  maintain  their  position  in  society,  pay  the  doctor 
and  the  dentist  ...  a  hundred  and  one  other  incidentals 


196          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

.  .  .  out  of  four  thousand  dollars  a  year.  Well,  it 
couldn't  be  done.  They  would  have  to  change  their 
mode  of  living. 

However,  that  concerned  her  little  at  present.  The 
ordeal  loomed  of  a  plain  talk  with  Mortimer.  It  was 
impossible  to  ignore  the  theft  even  had  she  wished ;  which 
she  did  not,  for  it  was  her  disposition  to  have  things  out 
and  over  with.  But  it  would  be  horrible  .  .  .  horribly 
intimate.  She  had  always  deliberately  lived  on  the  sur 
face  with  her  family  and  friends,  respected  their  pri 
vacies  as  she  held  hers  inviolate.  As  her  mind  flashed 
back  over  her  life  she  realized  that  this  would  be  the 
first  really  serious  personal  talk  she  would  ever  have 
held  with  any  one.  Or,  ii  her  family,  and  occasionally, 
Mortimer,  had  insisted  upon  being  serious  she  had  main 
tained  her  own  attitude  of  airy  humor  or  delicate  inso 
lence. 

She  had  no  shyness  of  manner  but  a  deep  and  intense 
shyness  of  the  soul.  Some  day  .  .  .  perhaps  .  .  .  but 
never  yet. 

ii 

She  turned  her  car  after  a  time,  for  she  feared  that 
her  batteries  would  run  down.  The  strikers  were  still 
lounging  and  scowling ;  and  this  time  having  relaxed  her 
mental  girths  she  looked  at  them  with  sympathy.  She 
knew  from  the  liberal  education  she  had  received  at  the 
hands  of  Mr.  James  Kirkpatrick,  and  the  admissions  of 
Judge  Lawton  and  other  thoughtful  men,  that  the  iniqui 
ties  of  employers  and  labor  were  pretty  equally  divided ; 
greed  and  lack  of  tact  on  the  one  hand,  greed  and  class 
hatred  and  the  itch  for  power  on  the  part  of  labor 
leaders;  and  a  stupidity  in  the  mass  that  was  more 
pardonable  than  the  short-sighted  stupidities  of  capital. 
.  .  .  But  what  would  you?  A  few  centuries  hence  the 
world  might  be  civilized,  but  not  in  her  time.  Nothing 
gave  her  mind  less  exercise.  One  thing  at  least  was 
certain  ^and  that  was  that  when  strikes  lasted  too  long 
the  laborers  and  their  families  went  hungry,  and  the 
employers  did  not.  That  settled  the  question  for  her 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  197] 

and  determined  the  course  of  her  sympathy.  (It  was 
not  yet  the  fashion  to  recognize  the  unfortunate 
* '  public, ' '  squeezed  and  helpless  between  these  two  louder 
demonstrators  of  sheer  human  nature.) 

But  her  mind  did  not  linger  in  the  shipyards.  She 
had  problems  of  her  own.  .  .  .  The  chief  of  her  com 
pensations,  having  made  a  mess  of  her  life,  had  been 
taken  from  her:  her  pride  and  her  faith  in  the  man  to 
whom,  she  was  bound.  The  death  of  love  had  been  so 
gradual  that  she  had  not  noticed  it  in  time  for  decent 
obsequies;  she  had  not  sent  a  regret  in  its  wake.  .  .  . 
She  had  had  enough  left,  more  than  many  women  who 
had  made  the  same  blind  plunge  into  the  barbed  wire 
maze  of  matrimony.  .  .  .  And  now  she  had  nothing. 
She  would  have  liked  to  drive  right  out  on'  to  a  liner 
about  to  sail  through  the  Golden  Gate  .  .  .  but  she 
would  no  doubt  have  to  live  on  ...  and  on  ...  in 
changed,  possibly  humble,  conditions  .  .  .  despising  the 
man  she  must  meet  sometime  every  day.  .  .  .  Yes,  she 
did  wish  she  never  had  been  born. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


concluded,  while  she  dressed  for  dinner,  that  she 
must  be  a  coward. 

Alexina  was  far  from  satisfied  with  herself  as  she 
was;  she  would  have  liked  to  possess  a  great  talent  like 
Gora,  or  be  an  intellectual  power  in  the  world  of  some 
sort.  She  was  far  from  stultification  by  the  national 
gift  of  complacence,  careless  self-satisfaction — racial 
rather  than  individual  .  .  .  qualities  that  have  made  the 
United  States  lag  far  behind  the  greater  European  na 
tions  in  all  but  material  development  and  a  certain 
inventiveness ;  both  of  which  in  some  cases  are  outclassed 
in  the  older  world. 

A  California  woman  of  her  mother's  generation  had 
become  a  great  and  renowned  archaeologist  and  lived 


198          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

romantically  in  a  castle  in  the  City  of  Mexico.  She  had 
often  wished,  since  her  serious  mental  life  had  begun, 
that  this  gift  had  descended  upon  her — the  donee  had 
also  been  a  member  of  the  A.  A.,  and  this  striking  en 
dowment  might  just  as  well  have  tarried  a  generation 
and  a  half  longer. 

She  was  by  no  means  avid  of  publicity — people  seldom 
are  until  they  have  tasted  of  it — but  she  would  have 
enjoyed  a  rapid  and  brilliant  development  of  her  mental 
faculties  with  productiveness  of  some  sort  either  as  a 
sequel  or  an  interim.  It  was  impossible  to  advance  much 
farther  in  her  present  circumstances. 

No,  she  was  far  from  perfect,  and  willing  to  admit  it ; 
but  she  had  always  assumed  that  courage,  moral  as  well 
as  physical,  was  an  accompaniment  of  race,  like  breed 
ing  and  certain  automatic  impulses.  But  her  hands  were 
trembling  and  her  cheeks  drained  of  every  drop  of  color 
because  she  must  have  a  plain  and  serious  talk  with  a 
guilty  wretch.  She  had  nothing  to  fear,  but  she  could 
not  have  felt  worse  if  she  had  been  the  culprit  herself. 
!What  was  human  nature  but  a  bundle  of  paradoxes? 

At  least  she  had  the  respite  of  the  dinner  hour.  Only 
a  fiend  would  spoil  a  man 's  dinner — and  cigar — no  mat 
ter  what  he  had  done.  That  would  make  the  full  time  of 
her  own  respite  about  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes. 

In  a  moment  of  panic  she  contemplated  telephoning 
to  Aileen  and  begging  her  to  come  over  to  dinner.  She 
also  no  doubt  could  get  Bascom  Luning  and  Jimmie 
Thorne.  Then  it  would  not  be  possible  to  speak  to 
Mortimer  before  to-morrow  as  he  always  fell  asleep  at 
ten  o'clock  when  there  was  no  dancing.  .  .  .  To-morrow 
it  would  be  easier,  and  wiser.  One  should  never  speak 
in  anger.  .  .  . 

But  she  was  quite  aware  that  her  anger  had  burnt 
itself  out.  Her  mind  felt  as  cold  as  her  hands.  Better 
have  it  over.  She  put  on  a  severe  black  frock,  not  only 
suitable  to  the  occasion  but  as  a  protection  from  disarm 
ing  compliments.  Mortimer,  who  dressed  so  well  himself 
that  it  would  Have  been  as  impossible  for  him  to  over 
dress  as  to  be  rude  to  a  woman,  disliked  dark  severity 
in  woman's  attire.  He  never  criticized  his  wife's  clothes, 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          199 

but  when  they  displeased  him  he  ignored  them  with 
delicate  ostentation. 


Alexina  had  begun  to  feel  that  she  should  scream  in 
the  complete  silence  of  the  dining-room  when  Mortimer 
unexpectedly  made  a  remark. 

' '  Gora  arrives  to-morrow.  Will  you  meet  her  ?  I  shall 
not  have  time." 

* '  Of  course.  I  shall  be  delighted  to  see  her  again.  It 
would  have  been  an  ideal  arrangement  if  I  could  have 
left  her  here  with  you  when  I  went  to  Europe. ' ' 

"Yes.  She  was  here  for  a  week.  I  missed  her  when 
she  left." 

"W — h — at?  When  was  she  here?  You  never  told 
me." 

"I  forgot.  It  was  soon  after  you  left.  The  ship  was 
disabled — fire,  I  think, — and  put  back.  I  asked  her  to 
stay  here  until  the  next  sailing. ' ' 

"How  jolly." 

Again  there  was  a  complete  silence.  But  Alexina  did 
not  notice  it.  Her  brain  was  whirling.  After  all,  she 
might  be  mistaken !  Mortimer !  He  might  be  innocent. 
...  To  think  of  Gora  as  a  thief  was  fantastic  .  .  .  was 
it?  ...  Was  she  not  Mortimer's  sister?  .  .  .  Why  he 
rather  than  she?  .  .  .  And  what  after  all  did  she  know 
of  Gora?  .  .  .  She  inspired  some  people  with  distrust, 
even  fear.  .  .  .  That  might  be  the  cause  of  Mortimer's 
depression.  .  .  .  He  knew  it.  ... 

At  all  events  it  was  a  straw  and  she  grasped  it  as  if 
it  had  been  a  plank  in  mid-ocean.  With  even  a  bare 
chance  that  Mortimer  was  innocent  it  would  be  unpar 
donable  to  insult  and  wound  him.  .  .  .  Nor  was  it  quite 
possible  to  ask  him  if  his  sister  were  a  thief.  She  must 
wait,  of  course. 

And  if  Gora  had  taken  the  bonds  they  might  be  re 
covered.  It  would  be  like  a  woman  to  secrete  them  in  a 
reaction  of  terror  after  having  nerved  herself  up  to  the 
deed. 

She  wished  that  Gora  had  gone  to  Hong  Kong.    Bolted. 


200          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

Then  she  could  be  certain.  But  at  least  she  had  a  re 
spite,  and  she  felt  so  ebullient  that  she  almost  forgot  her 
loss,  and  swept  Morty  over  to  the  Lawtons  after  dinner ; 
and  the  Judge  took  them  all  to  the  movies. 


CHAPTER  IX 


A  LEXINA  would  listen  to  no  remonstrance.  Gora 
C*  might  send  her  trunks  to  Geary  Street  if  she  liked, 
but  she  must  come  home  to  Ballinger  House  and  spend 
at  least  one  night  with  her  brother  and  sister,  who  had 
missed  her  quite  dreadfully.  Gora  wondered  how  Alex- 
ina  could  have  missed  her  so  touchingly  in  Europe,  but 
accepted  the  invitation,  as  a  note  from  the  surgeon  to 
whom  she  had  written  by  the  previous  steamer  asked  her 
to  hold  herself  in  readiness  for  an  operation  a  week 
hence. 

Gora  was  looking  remarkably  well,  and  Alexina  as 
sumed  it  was  not  only  the  six  months  of  mountain  life 
and  the  three  months  in  the  tropics.  She  had  an  air  of 
assured  power,  rarely  absent  in  a  woman  who  has  found 
herself  and  achieved  a  definite  place  in  life.  Besides 
being  one  of  the  best  nurses  in  San  Francisco,  in  con 
stant  demand  by  the  leading  doctors  and  surgeons,  her 
short  stories  had  attracted  considerable  attention  in  the 
magazines,  although  no  publisher  would  risk  bringing 
them  out  in  book  form.  But  they  were  invariably  men 
tioned  in  any  summary  of  the  year's  best  stories,  one  had 
been  included  in  a  volume  of  selected  short  stories  by 
modern  authors,  and  one  in  a  recent  text-book  compiled 
for  the  benefit  of  aspirants  in  the  same  difficult  art.  The 
remuneration  had  been  insignificant,  for  her  stories  were 
not  of  the  popular  order,  and  she  had  not  yet  the  name 
that  alone  commands  the  high  reward;  but  she  had  ad 
vanced  farther  than  many  another  as  severely  handi 
capped,  and  she  knew  through  her  admiring  sister-in- 
law  and  Aileen  Lawton  that  her  stories  were  mentioned 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          201 

occasionally  at  a  San  Francisco  dinner  table  and  even 
discussed !    She  was  * '  arriving. ' '    No  doubt  of  that. 


"When  will  the  novel  come  out?    I  can't  wait." 

"Not  until  the  spring. " 

They  were  sitting  in  Alexina 's  room  and  Gora  had 
been  placed  directly  in  front  of  the  cabinet,  which  she 
did  not  appear  even  to  see.  She  had  taken  off  her  hat 
and  coat  and  was  holding  the  heavy  masses  of  hair  away 
from  her  head. 

"Do  you  mind?  I  feel  as  if  I  had  a  twenty-pound 
weight.  .  .  ." 

'  i  What  a  question !    Do  what  you  want. ' ' 

Gora  took  out  the  pins  and  let  down  her  hair.  It  was 
not  as  fine  as  Alexina's,  but  it  was  brown  and  warm  and 
an  unusual  head  of  hair  for  these  days.  It  fell  down 
both  sides  of  her  face,  and  her  long  cold  unrevealing 
eyes  looked  paler  than  ever  between  her  sun-burned 
cheeks  and  her  low  heavy  brows. 

Alexina  knew  that  she  had  an  antagonist  far  worthier 
of  any  weapons  she  might  find  in  her  armory  than  poor 
Morty,  but  she  believed  she  could  trap  her  if  she  were 
guilty.  .  .  .  And  she  must  be  ...  she  must.  .  .  . 

' '  Didn  't  you  find  it  too  hot  in  the  tropics  for  writing  ? ' ' 

"I  only  copied  and  revised.  The  book  was  finished 
before  I  left  Lake  Tahoe — an  ideal  place  for  work.  Some 
day  I  shall  have  a  log  cabin  up  there.  May  I  smoke  ? ' ' 

"Of  course." 

"It  is  almost  a  shame  to  desecrate  a  flower.  ...  I 
used  to  come  in  here  sometimes  and  look  round  .  .  . 
the  week  I  spent  here.  .  .  .  The  room  is  a  poem  .  .  . 
like  you.  ...  Or  rather  the  binding  of  the  prose  poem 
that  is  Alexina. ' ' 

"  I  'd  love  it  if  you  made  me  the  heroine  of  one  of  your 
novels. ' ' 

"You  11  have  much  more  fun  living  it  yourself." 

"Fine  chance.  I  don't  suppose  I'll  ever  get  out  of 
California  again.  ...  I  am  afraid  that  Morty  is  doing 
quite  badly." 

Gora  shrugged  her  strong  square  shoulders.    "I  never 


202          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

expected  anything  else.  I  asked  him  for  another  thou 
sand  dollars  of  my  money  when  I  was  here  and  he  looked 
as  if  he  had  forgotten  he  owed  me  any.  Just  like  a  man 
and  Morty  in  particular.  Then  he  said  he  expected  to 
make  an  immense  profit  on  something  or  other  he  had 
ordered  from  the  Orient  and  would  pay  me  off  when  I 
returned.  Has  he  condescended  to  tell  you  anything 
about  his  affairs?" 

"Not  a  word.  Did  you  need  the  money  badly?  If  I 
had  been  here  I  could  have  lent  it  to  you." 

"Thanks.  I  am  sure  you  would.  But  I  dislike  the 
idea  of  borrowing.  It  must  be  so  depressing  to  pay 
back.  ...  I  was  in  no  particular  need  of  it,  for  of 
course  I've  saved  quite  a  bit.  I  merely  have  a  natural 
desire  for  my  own  and  thought  it  was  a  good  oppor 
tunity  to  strike  Morty.  ...  I  suppose  he's  been  specu 
lating.  Fortunes  have  been  made  in  Tonopah,  but  he 
would  be  sure  to  buy  at  the  wrong  time  or  in  the  wrong 
mine.  .  .  .  Has  he  ever  asked  you  for  money?" 

"Never.  He  knows,  too,  that  I  have  quite  a  Sum  in 
bonds  that  I  could  convert  into  cash  at  once. ' ' 

' '  Well,  take  my  advice  and  hold  on  to  them — to  every 
cent  you  have.  Where  do  you  keep  them?" 

"In  the  bank  ...  in  a  safe-deposit  vault — Oh,  how 
careless  of  me!  I've  left  the  key  out  on  the  table! 
I  usually  keep  it  ...  you  remember  ...  in  the  secret 
drawer  of  the  cabinet." 

' i  How  I  wish  I  had  the  courage  to  write  a  story  about 
a  secret  drawer  of  an  old  Italian  cabinet!  ...  I 
wouldn't  leave  it  lying  about;  although,  of  course,  no 
one  could  use  it  without  a  pass  also." 

"A  what?" 

"They  use  every  precaution.  I  know,  because  when 
I  nursed  old  Mrs.  Beresford  for  eight  months,  I  was 
sent  down  to  the  vault  twice." 

Alexina's  head  was  whirling.  The  blood  burned  and 
beat  in  her  face. 

"Even  with  her  signature  I  couldn't  get  by  the  keeper 
the  first  time  because  he  didn't  know  me.  I  had  to  be 
identified  by  her  lawyer." 

"I  like  to  feel  so  well  taken  care  of.    What  shall  you 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          203 

do  if  your  novel  is  a  great  success?  Of  course  it  will  be. 
You  would  never  go  on  being  a  nurse. ' ' 

"I  am  not  so  sure  it  will  be  a  success.  Neither  is  my 
publisher.  He  wrote  me  a  half-whimsical  half-compli 
mentary  letter  saying  that  I  must  remember  the  average 
reader  was  utterly  commonplace,  with  no  education  in 
the  higher  sense,  no  imagination,  had  an  extremely  lim 
ited  vocabulary  and  thought  and  talked  in  ready-made 
phrases,  composed  for  the  most  part  of  the  colloquialisms 
of  the  moment.  Style,  distinction  of  mind,  erected  an 
almost  visible  wall  between  the  ambitious  writer  and 
this  predominant  class.  If  they  found  this  sort  of  book 
interesting — which  as  a  rule  they  did  not —  they  felt  a 
sullen  sense  of  inferiority;  and  if  there  were  too  many 
unfamiliar  words  they  pitched  it  across  the  room  with 
the  ultimate  adjective  of  their  disapproval — 'highbrow.' 
But  it  is  more  the  general  atmosphere  they  resent — 
would  resent  if  the  book  were  purposely  written  with 
the  most  limited  vocabulary  possible." 

1  'Our  national  self-suffcieney,  I  suppose.  Also  the 
fetish  of  equality  that  still  persists.  We  are  the  great 
est  nation  on  earth,  of  course,  but  it  isn  't  democratic  for 
any  one  of  us  to  be  greater  than  the  other. ' ' 

1  'Exactly.  I  don't  say  I  wouldn't  write  for  the  mob 
if  I  could.  Nice  stories  about  nice  people.  Intimate  life 
histories  of  commonplace  '  real  Americans, '  touched  with 
a  bit  of  romance,  or  tragedy — somewhere  about  the  mid 
dle — or  adventure,  with  a  bad  man  or  woman  for  good 
measure  and  to  prove  to  the  highbrows  that  the  author 
is  advanced  and  knows  the  world  as  well  as  the  next, 
even  if  he  or  she  prefers  to  treat  of  the  more  '  admirable 
aspects  of  our  American  life.'  Unluckily  I  cannot  read 
such  books  nor  write  them.  I  was  born  with  a  passion 
for  English  and  the  subtler  psychology.  I  should  be 
hopeless  from  any  editor's  or  publisher's  standpoint  if 
I  didn't  happen  to  have  been  fitted  out  with  a  strong 
sense  of  drama.  If  I  could  only  set  my  stage  with  com 
monplace  people  no  doubt  I  'd  make  a  roaring  hit.  But 
I  can't  and  I  won't.  Who  has  such  a  chance  as  an 
author  to  get  away  from  commonplace  people?  Fancy 
deliberately  concocting  new  ones!" 


204          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

"Not  you!  But  you'll  have  some  sort  of  success,  all 
the  same. ' ' 

"Yes,  there  are  publics.  Perhaps  I'll  hypnotize  one 
of  them.  As  for  the  financial  end,  what  I  hope  is  that 
the  book  will  give  me  a  position  that  will  raise  my  prices 
in  the  magazines." 

"You  could  live  abroad  very  cheaply."  Alexina 
raised  her  eyes  a  trifle  and  looked  as  guileless  as  her 
words. 

"Oh,  be  sure  I'll  go  to  Europe  and  stay  there  for 
years  as  soon  as  I  see  my  way  ahead.  I  should  find 
color  in  the  very  stones  of  the  village  streets." 

"I  am  told  that  you  can  find  most  comfortable  quar 
ters  in  some  of  those  English  village  inns,  and  for  next 
to  nothing.  By  the  way,  do  you  still  correspond  with 
that  Englishman  who  was  here  during  the  fire?" 

' '  Gathbroke  ?  Off  and  on.  I  send  him  my  stories  and 
he  writes  a  humorous  sort  of  criticism  of  each ;  says  that 
as  I  have  no  humor  he  feels  a  sort  of  urge  to  apply  a 
little  somewhere." 

' '  How  interesting.    He  didn  't  strike  me  as  humorous. ' ' 

"I  fancy  he  wasn't  more  than  about  one-fifth  devel 
oped  when  he  was  here.  Men  like  that,  with  his  ad 
vantages,  go  ahead  very  rapidly  when  they  get  into  their 
stride.  He  has  already  developed  from  business  into 
politics — he  is  in  Parliament — and  that  is  the  second 
long  stride  he  has  taken  in  the  past  seven  years. ' ' 

"How  interesting  it  will  be  for  you  two  to  meet 
again."  Alexina  spoke  with  languid  politeness. 

Gora  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "If  we  do."  She 
might  not  be  able  to  show  the  under-white  of  her  eyes 
and  look  like  a  seraph,  but  she  had  her  voice,  her  fea 
tures,  under  perfect  control,  and  she  had  never  been 
quick  to  blush.  She  did  not  suspect  that  Alexina  was 
angling,  but  the  very  sound  of  Gathbroke 's  name  was 
enough  to  put  up  her  guard. 

"You  must  have  had  several  proposals,  Gora  dear. 
Your  profession  is  almost  as  good  as  a  matrimonial 
bureau.  And  you  look  too  fetching  for  words  in  that 
uniform  and  cap." 

"I've  had  just  two  proposals.    One  was  from  an  old 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          205 

rancher  who  liked  the  way  I  turned  him  over  in  bed  and 
rubbed  his  back.  The  other  was — well,  a  nice  fellow, 
and  quite  well  off.  But  I'm  not  keen  on  marrying  any 
one." 

"Still,  if  it  gave  yon  that  much  more  independence 
and  leisure  .  .  .  travel  ...  a  wider  life.  .  .  . " 

"I'd  only  consider  marrying  for  two  reasons:  If  I 
met  a  man  who  had  the  power  to  make  me  quite  mad 
about  him,  or  one  who  could  give  me  a  great  position  in 
the  world  and  was  not  wholly  obnoxious.  Otherwise, 
I  prefer  to  trot  alone.  Why  not?  At  least  I  escape 
monotony;  I  have  what  after  all  is  the  most  precious 
thing  in  life,  complete  personal  freedom;  and  if  I  suc 
ceed  with  my  writing  I  can  see  the  world  and  attain  to 
position  without  the  aid  of  any  man.  If  I  don  \  I  don 't, 
and  that  is  the  end  of  it.  I  'm  a  bit  of  a  fatalist,  I  think, 
although  to  be  sure  when  I  want  a  thing  badly  enough 
I  forget  all  about  that  and  fight  like  the  devil." 

Alexina  looked  at  the  square  face  of  her  strange  sister- 
in-law,  so  unlike  her  brother;  at  the  high  cheek  bones, 
the  heavy  low  brows  over  the  cold  light  eyes,  the  power 
ful  jaw,  the  wide  firm  but  mobile  mouth. 

"Have  you  any  Russian  blood?"  she  asked.  "  *Way 
back?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of.  But  after  all  I  know  little 
about  my  family,  outside  of  the  one  ancestor  that  anchors 
us  in  the  Revolutionary  era.  He  or  his  son  or  his  son's 
son  may  have  married  a  Russian  or  a  Mongolian  for  all 
I  know.  Perhaps  some  one  of  my  old  aunts  may  have 
worked  out  a  family  tree  in  cross-stitch,  but  if  so  I  never 
heard  of  it.  Well,  I  'm  off  to  clean  up  for  dinner. ' ' 

Alexina  for  the  first  time  in  their  acquaintance  flung 
her  arms  round  Gora's  neck  and  kissed  her  warmly. 
Truth  to  tell  her  conscience  was  smarting,  although  she 
was  able  to  assure  herself  that  not  for  a  moment  had  she 
really  believed  her  sister-in-law  to  be  guilty;  she  had 
merely  grasped  at  a  straw.  Gora  returned  the  embrace 
gratefully  and  without  suspicion.  As  ever,  she  was  a 
little  sorry  for  Alexina. 


206  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  X 


A  LEXINA  felt  only  an  intolerable  ennui.  Gora  had 
•**•  gone  in  the  morning;  she  sat  alone  in  her  room. 
Of  course  she  must  have  that  explanation  with  Mortimer, 
but  any  time  before  the  first  of  the  month  would  do. 
She  was  far  less  concerned  with  that  now  than  with  the 
problem:  what  to  do  with  her  life.  How  was  she  to 
continue  to  live  in  the  same  house  with  him?  Perhaps 
in  far  smaller  quarters  than  these?  For  she  could  not 
leave  him.  She  had  no  visible  excuse,  and  no  desire  to 
admit  to  the  world  that  she  had  made  woman's  super 
lative  mistake. 

She  scowled  at  the  lovely  room  in  which  she  had  ex 
pected  to  find  compensation  in  dreams,  the  setting  for 
an  unreal  and  enchanted  world. 

Dreams  had  died  out  of  her.  For  the  first  time  in  her 
sheltered  existence  she  appreciated  the  grim  reality  of 
life.  She  was  no  longer  sheltered,  secluded,  one  of  the 
* '  fortunate  class. ' '  Ways  and  means  would  occupy  most 
of  her  time  henceforth.  And  it  was  not  the  privations  she 
shrank  from  but  the  contacts  with  the  ugly  facts  of  life ; 
a  side  she  had  found  extremely  picturesque  in  novels, 
but  knew  from  occasional  glimpses  to  be  merely  repul 
sive  and  demoralizing. 

And  of  whom  could  she  ask  advice?  She  must  make 
changes  and  make  them  quickly.  Four  thousand  dollars 
a  year!  .  .  .  and  taxes — besides  the  new  income  tax — to 
be  paid  on  the  downtown  property,  the  flats,  the  land  on 
which  her  home  stood,  Ballinger  House  itself  and  all  its 
contents. 

She  knew  vaguely  that  many  girls  these  days  were 
given  special  training  of  some  sort  even  where  their 
parents  were  well  off;  but  more  particularly  where  the 
father  was  what  is  known  as  a  high-salaried  man;  or 
even  a  moderately  successful  professional  or  business 
man — all  of  whose  expenses  and  incomes  balanced  too 
nicely  for  investments. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          207 

Not  in  her  set!  Joan,  bored  after  her  third  season 
with  dancing  in  winter  and  "sitting  round  Alta"  in 
summer,  had  asked  permission  to  become  a  trained 
nurse  like  Gora,  or  go  into  the  decorating  business,  ' '  any 
old  thing";  and  Maria  Abbott  had  simply  stared  at  her 
in  horror;  even  her  father  had  asked  her  angrily  if  she 
wished  to  disgrace  him,  advertise  him  as  unable  to  pro 
vide  for  his  family.  No  self-respecting  American,  etc. 

But  something  must  be  done.  She  wished  to  live  on 
in  Ballinger  House  if  possible,  not  only  because  she  loved 
it,  or  to  avoid  the  commiserations  of  the  world ;  she  had 
no  desire  to  live  in  narrow  quarters  with  her  husband. 
.  .  .  And  she  knew  nothing,  was  fit  for  nothing,  belonged 
to  a  silly  class  that  still  looked  upon  women  workers  as 
de-classed,  although  to  be  sure  two  or  three  whose  hus 
bands  had  left  them  penniless  had  gone  into  business 
and  were  loyally  tolerated,  if  deeply  deplored. 

The  day  after  her  return  from  Europe  Alice  Thorn- 
dyke  had  come  into  this  room  and  thrown  herself  down 
on  the  couch,  her  long,  languorous  body  looking  as  if  set 
on  steel  springs,  her  angelic  blonde  beauty  distorted  with 
fury  and  disgust,  and  poured  out  her  hatred  of  men  and 
all  their  ways,  her  loathing  for  society  and  gambling  and 
all  the  stupid  vicious  round  of  the  life  both  public  and 
secret  she  had  elected  to  lead.  .  .  .  She  had  had  enough 
of  it.  ...  After  all,  she  had  some  brains  and  she  wanted 
to  use  them.  She  wanted  to  go  into  the  decorating  busi 
ness.  There  was  an  opening.  She  had  a  natural  flair 
for  that  sort  of  thing.  See  what  she  had  managed  to  do 
with  that  old  ark  she  had  inherited,  and  on  five  cents  a 
year.  .  .  .  When  she  had  asked  her  sister  to  advance  the 
money  Sibyl  had  flown  into  one  of  her  worst  rages  and 
thrown  a  gold  hair  brush  through  a  Venetian  mirror. 
Didn  't  she  give  her  clothes  by  the  dozen  that  she  hadn  't 
worn  a  month?  Did  any  girl  have  a  better  time  in 
society?  Was  any  girl  luckier  at  poker?  Was  any  girl 
more  popular  with  men — too  bad  it  was  generally  the 
married  ones  that  lost  their  heads.  .  .  .  Better  if  she 
stopped  fooling  and  married.  By  and  by  it  would  be 
too  late. 

But  she  didn't  want  to  marry.  She  was  sick  of  men. 
She  wanted  to  get  out  of  her  old  life  altogether  and 


208  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

cultivate  a  side  of  her  mind  and  character  that  had  stag 
nated  so  far  .  .  .  also  to  enjoy  the  independent  life  of 
a  money-earner  .  .  .  life  in  an  entirely  different  world 
.  .  .  something  new  .  .  .  new  .  .  .  new. 

Alexina  had  offered  to  lend  her  the  capital,  for  Alice 
had  a  hard  cool  head.  But  she  had  refused,  saying  she 
could  mortgage  her  old  barrack  if  it  came  to  that  .  .  . 
but  she  didn't  know  ...  it  would  be  a  break.  .  .  .  Sib 
might  never  speak  to  her  again  .  .  .  people  were  such 
snobs  .  .  .  and  she  mightn't  like  it  ...  she  wished  she 
had  been  born  of  poor  but  honest  parents  and  put  to 
work  in  a  canning  factory  or  married  the  plumber. 

She  had  done  nothing,  and  Alexina  wondered  if  she 
would  have  the  courage  to  go  into  some  sort  of  business 
with  herself  .  .  .  they  could  give  out  they  were  bored, 
seeking  a  new  distraction  .  .  .  save  the  precious  pride 
of  their  families. 

She  leaned  forward  and  took  her  head  in  her  hands. 
If  she  only  had  some  one  to  talk  things  over  with.  It 
was  impossible  to  confide  in  Gora,  in  any  one.  If  she 
broached  the  subject  to  Tom  Abbott,  to  Judge  Lawton, 
even  in  a  roundabout  way,  they  would  suspect  at  once. 
Aileen  and  Janet  and  the  other  girls  did  not  know 
enough.  They  would  suspect  also.  But  her  head  would 
burst  if  she  didn  't  consult  some  one.  She  was  too  horri 
bly  alone.  And  after  all  she  was  still  very  young.  She 
had  talked  largely  of  her  responsibilities,  but  as  a  matter 
of  fact  until  now  she  had  never  had  one  worth  the  name. 

Suddenly  she  thought  of  James  Kirkpatrick. 

n 

The  lessons  in  socialism  had  died  a  natural  death  long 
since.  But  Alexina  and  Aileen  and  Janet  had  never 
quite  let  him  go.  Whenever  there  was  a  great  strike  on, 
either  in  California  or  in  any  part  of  the  nation,  they 
invited  him  to  take  tea  with  them  at  least  once  a  week 
while  it  lasted  and  tell  them  all  the  ' '  ins. ' '  This  he  was 
nothing  loath  to  do,  and  waived  the  question  of  remuner 
ation  aside  with  a  gesture.  He  was  now  a  foreman,  and 
vice-president  of  his  union,  and  it  gave  him  a  distinct 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          209 

satisfaction  to  confer  a  favor  upon  these  ' '  lofty  dames, ' ' 
whom,  however,  he  liked  better  as  time  went  on.  Alexina 
he  had  always  worshiped  and  the  only  time  he  ceased 
to  be  a  socialist  was  when  he  ground  his  teeth  and  cursed 
fate  for  not  making  him  a  gentleman  and  giving  him  a 
chance  before  she  was  corralled  by  that  sawdust  dude. 

He  had  also  remained  on  friendly  terms  with  Gora, 
who  had  cold-bloodedly  studied  him  and  made  him  the 
hero  of  a  grim  strike  story.  But  as  he  never  read  polite 
literature  their  friendship  was  unimpaired. 


m 

He  came  to  tea  that  afternoon  in  response  to  a  tele 
phone  call  from  Alexina.  She  had  put  on  a  tea  gown  of 
periwinkle  blue  chiffon  and  a  silver  fillet  about  her  head, 
and  looked  to  Mr.  Kirkpatrick 's  despairing  gaze  as  she 
intended  to  look — beautiful,  of  course,  but  less  woman 
than  goddess.  Exquisite  but  not  tempting.  She  was 
quite  aware  of  the  young  workman's  hopeless  passion 
and  she  managed  him  as  skillfully  as  she  did  the  more 
assured,  sophisticated,  and  sometimes  "illuminated" 
Jimmie  Thorne  and  Bascom  Luning. 

She  received  him  in  the  great  drawing-room  behind 
the  tea-table,  laden  with  the  massive  silver  of  dead  and 
gone  Ballingers. 

"I've  only  been  home  a  week,"  she  said  gayly.  "See 
what  a  good  friend  I  am.  I've  scarcely  seen  any  one. 
Did  you  get  my  post  cards  ? ' ' 

"I  did  and  I've  framed  them,  if  you  don't  mind  my 
saying  so. ' ' 

"I  hoped  you  would.  I  picked  out  the  prettiest  I 
could  find.  They  do  have  such  beauties  in  Europe.  Just 
think,  it  was  my  first  visit.  I  was  wildly  excited. 
Wouldn't  you  like  to  go?" 

"Naw.  America's  good  enough  for  me.  'Fris — oh, 
Lord!  San  Francisco — for  that  matter.  I'd  like  to  go 
to  the  next  International  Socialist  Congress  all  right — 
next  year.  Maybe  I  will.  I  guess  that  would  give  me 
enough  of  Europe  to  last  me  the  rest  of  my  natural  life. ' ' 

' '  I  met  a  good  many  Frenchmen,  and  I  have  a  friend 


210          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

married  to  a  very  clever  one.  He  says  they  expect  a  war 
with  Germany  in  a  year  or  two " 

11  There  '11  never  be  another  war.  Not  in  Europe  or 
anywhere  else.  The  socialists  won 't  permit  it. ' ' 

4 '  There  are  a  good  many  socialists — and  syndicalists — 
in  France,  and  it's  quite  true  they're  doing  all  they  can 
to  prevent  any  money  being  voted  for  the  army  or  ex 
pended  if  it  is  voted;  but  I  happen  to  know  that  the 
Government  has  asked  the  president  of  the  Red  Cross  to 
train  as  many  nurses  as  she  can  induce  to  volunteer,  and 
as  quickly  as  possible.  My  friend  Madame  Morsigny 
was  to  begin  her  training  a  few  days  after  I  left. ' ' 

"Hm.    So.    I  hadn't  heard  a  word  of  it." 

* '  We  get  so  much  European  news  out  here !  America 
first !  Especially  in  the  matter  of  murders  and  hold-ups. 
Who  cares  for  a  possible  war  in  Europe  when  the  head 
lines  are  as  black  as  the  local  crimes  they  announce  ? 7 ' 

"Sure  thing.  Great  little  old  papers.  But  don't  let 
any  talk  of  war  from  anywhere  at  all  worry  you.  And 
I'll  tell  you  why.  At  the  last  International  Congress 
all  the  socialists  of  all  the  nations  were  ready  to  agree 
that  all  labor  should  lay  down  its  tools — quit  work — go 
on  a  colossal  strike — the  moment  those  blood-sucking 
capitalists  at  the  top,  those  sawdust  kings  and  kaisers 
and  tsars — or  any  president  for  that  matter — declared 
war  for  any  cause  whatsoever.  All,  that  is,  but  the 
German  delegates.  They  couldn't  see  the  light.  Now 
they  have.  When  we  meet  next  August  the  resolution 
will  be  unanimous.  Take  it  from  me.  You've  read  of 
your  last  war  in  some  old  history  book.  Peace  from 
now  on,  and  thank  the  socialists." 

' 1 1  should.  But  suppose  Germany  should  declare  war 
before  next  August?" 

"She  won't.  She  ain't  ready.  She'd  have  done  it 
after  that  there  'Agadir  Incident'  if  she'd  dared.  That 
is  to  say  been  good  and  ready.  Now  she's  got  to  wait 
for  another  good  excuse  and  there  ain't  one  in  sight." 

"But  you  believe  she'd  like  to  precipitate  a  war  in 
Europe  for  her  own  purposes?" 

"She'd  like  it  all  right."  And  he  quoted  freely  from 
Treitschke  and  Bernhardi,  while  Alexina  as  ever  looked 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          211 

at  him  in  wonder.  He  seemed  to  be  more  deeply  read 
every  time  she  met  him,  and  he  remained  exactly  the 
same  James  Kirkpatrick.  What  an  adventitious  thing 
breeding  was!  Mortimer  had  it! 

"Well,  I  am  glad  I  spoke  of  it.  You  have  relieved 
my  mind,  for  you  speak  as  one  with  authority.  .  .  . 
There  is  something  else  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about.  .  .  . 
A  friend  of  mine  is  in  a  dilemma  and  I  don 't  quite  know 
how  to  advise  her.  .  .  .  We're  all  such  a  silly  set  of 
moths " 

"No  moth  about  you!"  interrupted  Mr.  Kirkpatrick 
firmly.  "Some  of  them — those  others,  if  you  like.  The 
only  redeeming  virtue  I  can  see  in  most  of  them  is  that 
they  are  what  they  are  and  don't  give  a  damn.  But  you 
— you've  got  more  brains  and  common  sense  than  the 
whole  bunch  of  women  in  this  town  put  together. ' ' 

"Oh,  dear!  Oh,  dear!  I'm  afraid  I've  addled  my 
brains  trying  to  cultivate  them,  and  what  I'm  more 
afraid  of  is  that  I've  addled  my  common  sense."  She 
spoke  with  such  gayety,  with  such  a  roguish  twinkle,  and 
curve  of  lip,  that  neither  then  nor  later  did  he  suspect 
that  she  was  the  heroine  of  her  own  tale. 

"Well,  fire  away.  No,  thanks,  no  more.  I  only  drink 
tea  to  please  you  anyway.  Tea  is  so  much  hot  water  to 
me." 

"Well,  smoke."  She  pushed  the  box  of  cigarettes 
toward  him.  "I  know  you  smoke  a  pipe,  but  I  won't  let 
my  husband  smoke  one  at  home.  It's  bad  for  my  cur 
tains.  .  .  .  This  is  it — One  of  my  friends,  poor  thing, 
has  had  a  terrible  experience:  discovered  that  her  hus 
band  has  stolen  the  part  of  her  little  fortune  whose 
income  enabled  them  to  do  something  more  than  keep 
alive.  You  see,  it's  a  sad  case.  She  believed  in  him, 
and  he  had  always  been  the  most  honest  creature  in  the 
world;  and  that's  as  much  of  a  blow  as  the  loss  of  the 
money. ' ' 

"What'd  he  do  it  for?" 

"Oh,  I  know  so  little  about  business  ...  he  wanted 
to  get  rich  too  quickly  I  suppose  .  .  .  speculated  or 
something  .  .  .  perhaps  got  into  a  hole.  This  has  been 
a  bad  year. 


•> » 


212          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

' '  Poor  chap ! ' '  said  Kirkpatrick  reflectively. 

"You're  not  commiserating  him?" 

" Ain't  I,  just?  He  done  it,  didn't  he?  He's  got  to 
pay  the  piper,  hasn  't  he  ?  Women  don 't  know  anything 
about  the  awful  struggles  and  temptations  of  the  rotten 
business  world.  He  didn't  do  it  because  he  wanted  to, 
you  can  bet  your  life  on  that.  He's  just  another  poor 
victim  of  a  vicious  system.  A  fly  in  the  same  old  web ; 
same  old  fat  spider  in  the  middle.  Not  capital  enough. 
Hard  times  and  the  little  man  goes  under,  no  matter  if 
he 's  a  darn  sight  better  fellow  than  the  bloated  beast  on 
top " 

'  *  You  mean  if  we  were  living  in  the  Socialistic  Utopia 
no  man  could  go  under  ? ' ' 

"I  mean  just  that.  It's  a  sin  and  a  shame.  A  fine 
young  fellow " 

" Remember,  you  don't  know  anything  about  him. 
He's  not  a  bad  sort  and  has  always  been  quite  honest 
before ;  but  he 's  not  very  clever.  If  he  were  he  wouldn  't 
have  got  himself  into  a  predicament.  He  had  a  good 
start,  far  better  than  nine-tenths  of  the  millionaires  in 
this  country  had  in  their  youth." 

"Oh,  I  don't  care  anything  about  that.  If  all  men 
were  equally  clever  in  chasing  the  almighty  dollar  there  'd 
be  no  excuse  for  socialism.  It's  our  job  to  displace  the 
present  rotten  system  of  government  with  one  in  which 
the  weak  couldn't  be  crowded  out,  where  all  that  are 
willing  to  work  will  have  an  equal  chance — and  those 
that  ain't  willing  will  have  to  work  anyhow  or  starve. 
.  .  .  One  of  the  thousand  things  the  matter  with  the 
present  system  is  that  the  square  man  is  so  often  in  the 
round  hole.  In  the  socialized  state  every  man  will  be 
guided  to  the  place  which  exactly  fits  his  abilities.  No 
weaker  to  the  wall  there." 

* '  You  think  you  can  defy  Nature  to  that  extent  ? ' ' 

"You  bet." 

"Well,  I'm  too  much  distracted  by  my  friend's  pre 
dicament  to  discuss  socialism.  ...  I  rather  like  the  idea 
though  of  the  strong  man  having  the  opportunity  to 
prove  himself  stronger  than  Life  .  .  .  find  out  what  he 
was  put  on  earth  and  endowed  with  certain  character- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          213 

istics  for  .  .  .  rather  a  pity  all  that  should  atrophy. 
.  .  .  However — what  shall  my  friend  do?  Continue  to 
live  with  a  man  she  despises  ? ' ' 

11  She's  no  right  to  despise  him  or  anybody.  It's  the 
system,  I  tell  you.  And  no  doubt  she's  just  as  weak  in 
some  way  herself.  Every  man  jack  of  us  is  so  chuck  full 
of  faults  and  potential  crime  it's  a  wonder  we  don't 
break  out  every  day  in  the  week,  and  if  women  are 
going  to  desert  us  when  the  old  Adam  runs  head  on  into 
some  one  of  the  devilish  traps  the  present  civilization 
has  set  out  all  over  the  place,  instead  of  being  able  to 
sidestep  it  once  more,  well — she'd  best  divorce  herself 
from  the  idea  of  matrimony  before  she  goes  in  for  the 
thing  itself.  Would  I  desert  my  brother  if  he  got  into 
trouble?  Would  you?*' 

"N — o,  I  suppose  you  are  right,  and  I  doubt  if  she 
would  leave  him  anyway.  However  .  .  .  there's  the 
other  aspect.  What  can  a  woman  in  her  position  do  to 
help  matters  out?  You  have  met  a  good  many  of  her 
kind  here.  Fancy  Miss  Lawton  or  Mrs.  Bascom  or  Miss 
Maynard  forced  to  work " 

''I  can't.  If  I  had  imagination  enough  for  that  I'd 
be  writin'  novels  like  Miss  D wight. " 

"I  believe  they'd  do  better  than  you  think.  Well, 
this  friend  isn't  quite  so  much  absorbed  in  society  and 
poker  and  dress.  She's  more  like — well,  there's  Mrs. 
Ruyler,  for  instance.  She  was  very  much  like  the  rest 
of  us,  and  now  we  never  see  her.  She's  as  devoted  to 
ranching  as  her  husband.7' 

' '  There  was  sound  bourgeois  French  blood  there, ' '  he 
said  shrewdly.  "And  she  wasn't  brought  up  like  the 
rest  of  you.  Don't  you  forget  that." 

1 '  Then  you  think  we  're  hopeless  ? ' ' 

"No,  I  don't.  Three  or  four  women  of  your  crowd — 
a  little  older,  that's  all — are  doin'  first-rate  in  business, 
and  they  were  light-headed  enough  in  their  time,  I'll 
warrant.  And  you,  for  instance — if  you  came  up  against 
it " 

"Yes?  What  could  I  do?"  cried  Alexina  gayly.  "But 
alas !  you  admit  you  have  no  imagination." 

"Don't  need  any.    You'd  be  good  for  several  things. 


214          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

You  could  go  into  the  insurance  business  like  Mrs.  Lake, 
or  into  real  estate  like  Mrs.  Cole — people  like  to  have  a 
pretty  and  stylish  young  lady  showin'  'em  round  flats. 
Or  you  could  buy  an  orchard  like  the  Kuylers — that'd 
require  capital.  If  we  had  the  socialistic  state  you'd  be 
put  on  one  of  the  thinking  boards,  so  to  speak.  That's 
the  point.  You've  got  no  training,  but  you've  got  a 
thinker.  You  'd  soon  learn.  But  I  'm  not  so  sure  of  your 
friend.  Somehow,  you've  given  me  the  impression  she's 
just  one  of  these  lady-birds." 

"I'm  afraid  she  is,"  said  Alexina  with  a  sigh.  "But 
you're  so  good  to  take  an  interest.  .  .  .  Suppose  you 
had  the  socialistic  state  now — to-morrow,  what  would 
you  do  with  all  these — lady-birds?" 

"I'd  put  'em  in  a  sanatorium  until  they  got  their 
nerves  patched  up,  and  then  I'd  turn  'em  over  to  a 
trainer  who'd  put  them  into  a  normal  physical  condi 
tion  ;  and  then  I  'd  put  'em  at  hard  labor — every  last  one 
of  'em." 

' '  Oh,  dear,  Mr.  Kirkpatrick,  would  you  ? ' ' 

"Yes,"  he  said  grimly.    "It  'ud  be  their  turn." 


CHAPTER  XI 


walked  down  the  avenue  with  him,  listening  to 
his  angry  account  of  the  great  coal  strike  in  West 
Virginia,  where  the  families  of  miners  in  their  beds  had 
been  fired  on  from  armored  motor  cars,  and  both  strikers 
and  civilians  were  armed  to  the  teeth. 

"That's  the  kind  of  war — civil  war — we  can't  pre 
vent — not  yet.  No  wonder  some  of  us  want  quick  action 
and  turn  into  I.  W.  Ws.  Of  course  they're  fools,  just 
poor  boobs,  to  think  they  can  win  out  that  way,  but  you 
can't  blame  'em.  Lord,  if  we  only  could  move  a  little 
faster.  If  Marx  had  been  a  good  prophet  we  'd  have  the 
socialized  state  to-day.  Things  didn't  turn  out  accord 
ing  to  Hoyle.  Lots  of  the  proletariat  ain't  proletariat 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          215 

any  longer,  instead  of  overrunning  the  earth;  and  in 
place  of  a  handful  of  great  capitalists  to  fight  we've  a 
few  hundred  thousand  little  capitalists,  or  good  wage 
earners  with  white  collars  on,  that  have  about  as  much 
use  for  socialism  as  they  have  for  man-eating  tigers.  1 'm 
thinking  about  this  country  principally.  Too  much 
chance  for  the  individual.  Trouble  is,  the  individual, 
like  as  not,  don't  know  what's  good  for  him  and  goes 
under,  like  the  man  you've  been  telling  me  about." 

' '  There's  only  one  thing  I  apprehend  in  your  socialistic 
state,"  said  Alexina,  who  always  became  frivolous  when 
Kirkpatrick  waxed  serious,  "and  that  is  universal  dis 
solution  from  sheer  ennui.  Either  that  or  we'll  go  on 
eternally  rowing  about  something  else.  Earth  has  never 
been  free  from  war  since  the  beginning  of  history,  and 
there  is  trouble  of  some  sort  going  on  somewhere  all  the 
time " 

"All  due  to  capitalism." 

"Capitalism  hasn't  always  existed." 

"Human  greed  has,  and  the  dominance  of  the  strong 
over  the  weak." 

"Exactly,  and  socialism  if  she  ever  gets  her  chance 
will  dominate  all  she  knows  how.  Remember  what  you 
said  just  now  about  forcing  the  pampered  women  to 
work  when  they  were  the  underdog.  But  the  point  is 
that  Nature  made  Earthians  a  fighting  breed.  She  must 
have  had  a  good  laugh  when  we  named  another  planet 
Mars." 

"Well,  we'll  fight  about  worthier  things." 

* '  Don 't  be  too  sure.  We  fight  about  other  things  now. 
All  the  trouble  in  the  world  isn't  caused  by  money  or 
the  want  of  it.  And  what  about  the  religious  wars " 


m 

It  was  at  this  inopportune  moment  that  they  met 
Mortimer.  If  Alexina  had  remembered  that  this  was  his 
homing  hour  she  would  have  parted  from  her  visitor  at 
the  drawing-room  door;  but  in  truth  she  had  dismissed 
Mortimer  from  her  mind. 

He  halted  some  paces  off  and  glared  from  his  wife's 


216          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

diaphanous  costume  to  the  workman  in  his  rough  clothes 
and  flannel  shirt.  As  the  avenue  sloped  abruptly  he  was 
at  a  disadvantage,  and  it  was  all  he  could  do  to  keep 
from  grinding  his  teeth. 

Alexina  went  forward  and  placed  her  hand  within  his 
arm,  giving  it  a  warning  pressure. 

"Now,  at  last,  you  and  Mr.  Kirkpatrick  will  meet. 
YouVe  always  so  snubbed  our  little  attempts  to  under 
stand  some  of  the  things  that  men  know  all  about,  that 
you've  never  met  any  of  our  teachers.  But  no  one  has 
taught  me  as  much  as  Mr.  Kirkpatrick,  so  shake  hands 
at  once  and  be  friends. ' ' 

Mortimer  extended  a  straight  and  wooden  hand. 
Kirkpatrick  touched  and  dropped  it  as  if  he  feared  con 
tamination.  Mortimer  ascended  a  few  steps  and  from 
this  point  of  vantage  looked  down  his  unmitigated  dis 
approval  and  contempt.  Kirkpatrick  would  have  given 
his  hopes  of  the  speedy  demise  of  capitalism  if  Alexina 
had  picked  up  her  periwinkle  skirts  and  fled  up  the 
avenue.  His  big  hands  clenched,  he  thrust  out  his  pug 
nacious  jaw,  his  hard  little  eyes  glowed  like  poisonous 
coals.  Mortimer,  to  do  him  justice,  was  entirely  without 
physical  cowardice,  and  continued  to  look  like  a  stage 
lord  dismissing  a  varlet. 

Kirkpatrick  caught  Alexina 's  imploring  eyes  and 
turned  abruptly  on  his  heel.  "So  long/*  he  said. 
"Guess  I'd  better  be  getting  on." 


IV 

"I  won't  have  that  fellow  in  the  house,"  said  Morti 
mer,  in  a  low  tone  of  white  fury.    "To  think  that  my 

wife — my  wife " 

' '  If  you  don 't  mind  we  won 't  talk  about  it. ' ' 
Alexina  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  avenue  and 
her  head  was  in  the  air.  She  had  long  since  ceased  to 
carry  her  spine  in  a  tubercular  droop  and  when  she 
chose  she  could  draw  her  body  up  until  it  seemed  to 
elongate  like  the  neck  of  a  giraffe,  and  overtop  Morti 
mer  or  whoever  happened  to  have  incurred  her  wrath. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          217 

Mortimer  glowered  at  her.  He  had  many  grievances. 
For  the  moment  he  forgot  that  she  might  have  any 
against  him. 

"And  out  here  in  broad  daylight,  almost  on  the  street, 
in  that  tea  gown " 

"I  have  often  been  qnite  on  the  street  in  similar  ones. 
Going  over  to  Aileen's.  You  forget  that  the  Western 
Addition  is  like  a  great  park  set  with  the  homes  of 
people  more  or  less  intimate." 

Mortimer  made  no  further  remarks.  He  had  never 
pretended  to  be  a  match  for  her  in  words.  But  the 
agitating  incident  seemed  to  have  lifted  him  temporarily 
at  least  out  of  the  nether  depths  of  his  depression,  for 
although  he  talked  little  at  dinner  he  appeared  to  eat 
with  more  relish.  As  he  settled  himself  to  his  cigar  in  a 
comfortable  wicker  chair  on  the  terrace  and  she  was 
about  to  return  to  the  house  he  spoke  abruptly  in  a 
faint  firm  voice. 

"Will  you  stay  here?  I've  got  something  to  say  to 
you." 

"Oh?" 

She  wheeled  about.  His  face  was  a  sickly  greenish 
white  in  the  heavy  shade  of  the  trees. 

"It's — it's — something  I've  been  wanting  to  say — tell 
you  ...  as  well  now  as  any  time." 

1 1  Oh,  very  well.    I  must  write  just  one  letter. ' ' 

She  ran  into  the  house  and  up  the  stairs  and  shut  her 
self  in  the  library,  breathless,  panic-stricken.  He  was 
going  to  confess !  How  awful !  How  awful !  How  could 
she  ever  go  through  with  it?  Why,  why,  hadn't  she 
spoken  at  once  and  got  it  over? 

She  sat  quite  still  until  she  had  ceased  trembling  and 
her  heart  no  lorger  pounded  and  affected  her  breathing. 
Then  she  set  her  teeth  and  went  downstairs. 


218          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  XII 


T\/f  ORTIMER  was  walking  up  and  down  the  hall. 

"Come  in  here,"  he  said.  He  entered  the 
drawing-room,  and  Alexina  followed  like  a  culprit1 
led  to  the  bar.  Nevertheless,  it  crossed  her  mind  that  he 
wanted  the  moral  support  of  a  mantelpiece. 

She  almost  stumbled  into  a  chair.  Mortimer  did  not 
avail  himself  of  the  chimneypiece  toward  which  he  had 
unconsciously  gravitated,  but  walked  back  and  forth. 
Two  electric  lights  hidden  under  lamp  shades  were  burn 
ing,  but  the  large  room  was  rather  somber. 

Alexina  composed  herself  once  more  with  a  violent 
effort  and  asked  in  a  crisp  tone :  ' '  Well  ?  What  is  this 
mystery?  Are  you  in  love  with  some  one  else?  Been 
making  love " 

"Alexina!" 

He  confronted  her  with  stricken  eyes.  "You  know 
that  I  am  literally  incapable  of  such  a  thing.  But  of 
course  you  were  jesting." 

"Of  course.  But  something  is  so  manifestly  wrong 
with  you,  and  .  .  .  well  ...  of  course  you  would  be 
justified." 

"Not  in  my  own  eyes.  Besides,  I  shall  never  give  up 
the  hope  of  winning  you  back  again.  I  live  for  that  .  .  . 
although  now !  .  .  .  that  is  the  whole  trouble.  ,  .  .  How 
am  I  going  to  say  it?" 

"Well,  let  me  help  you  out.    You  took  the  bonds." 

"You've  been  to  the  bank!  I  wanted  to  tell  you  first 
.  .  .  the  day  you  came  back.  ...  I  couldn't.  ..." 

"There  is  only  one  thing  I  am  really  curious  about. 
How  did  you  get  in  ?  Of  course  you  knew  where  I  kept 
the  key,  but " 

"I "    His  voice  was  so  lifeless  that  if  dead  men 

could  speak  it  must  be  in  the  same  flat  faint  tones. 
"I  had  the  old  power  of  attorney." 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          219 

"  But  I  revoked  it. " 

* '  I  mean  the  instrument — the  paper.  You  did  not  ask 
for  it.  I  did  not  think  of  it  either.  ...  I  trusted  to  the 
keeper  taking  it  on  its  face  value,  not  looking  it  up.  He 

didn't.  You  see "  He  gave  a  dreadful  sort  of 

laugh.  "I  am  well  known  and  have  a  good  reputation.'1 

"Why  didn't  you  cahle  and  ask  me  to  lend  you  the 
money?" 

"There  wasn't  time.  Besides,  you  might  have  re 
fused.  I  was  desperate " 

"I  don't  want  to  hear  the  particulars.  I  am  not  in 
the  least  curious.  What  I  must  talk  to  you  ahout " 

"I  must  tell  you  the  whole  thing.  I  can't  go  ahout 
with  it  any  longer.  Then,  perhaps,  you  will  under 
stand." 

His  voice  was  still  flat  and  as  he  continued  to  walk 
he  seemed  to  draw  half -paralyzed  legs  after  him.  Alex- 
ina  set  her  lips  and  stared  at  the  floor.  He  meant  to 
talk.  No  getting  out  of  it. 

"I — I — have  only  done  well  occasionally  since  the 
very  first.  It  didn't  matter  so  long  as  your  mother  was 
alive,  and  for  a  little  while  after.  But  when  you  took 
things  into  your  own  hands  .  .  .  after  that  it  was 
capital  I  turned  over  to  you  nearly  every  month — hardly 
ever  profits. ' ' 

' '  What  ?    Why  didn  't  you  tell  me  ? " 

"I  hadn't  the  courage.  I  was  too  anxious  to  stand 
well  with  you.  And  I  always  hoped,  believed,  I  would 
do  better  as  times  improved.  I  had  great  hopes  of  my* 
self  and  I  had  a  pretty  good  start.  But  as  time  went  OB 
I  grew  to  understand  that  my  abilities  were  third-rate. 
I  should  have  done  all  right  with  a  large  capital — say  a 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars — but  only  a  man  far 
cleverer  than  I  am  could  have  got  anywhere  in  that 
business  with  a  paltry  sixteen  thousand  to  begin  on.  I 
got  one  or  two  connections  and  did  pretty  well,  off  and 
on,  for  a  time;  but  if  I  hadn't  made  one  or  two  lucky 
strikes  in  stocks  my  capital  would  simply  have  run  away 
in  household  expenses  long  ago. ' ' 

"Then  why  did  you  join  that  expensive  club?" 

"It  was  good  business,"  he  said  evasively.    "I  meet 


220          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

the  right  sort  of  men  there.    That's  where  I  got  my  stock 
pointers." 

' '  Did  you  take  the  bonds  to  gamble  with  ? ' ' 
' '  No.  I  'd  never  have  done  that.  I  gambled  in  another 
way,  though.  I  thought  I  saw  a  chance  to  sell  a  certain 
commodity  at  that  particular  time  and  I  plunged  and 
sent  for  a  large  quantity  of  it.  It  looked  sure.  I  have  a 
friend  over  there  and  got  it  on  credit.  I  banked  on  an 
immediate  sale  and  a  big  profit.  But  something  delayed 
the  shipping  in  Hong  Kong.  When  it  arrived  the  market 
was  swamped.  Some  one  else  had  had  the  same  idea. 
I  had  to  pay  for  the  goods,  as  well  as  other  big  out 
standing  bills,  or  go  into  bankruptcy.  So  I  took  the 
bonds.  It  wasn't  easy.  But  there  was  nothing  else  to 
do.  .  .  .  There  were  about  ten  thousand  dollars  left  and 
I  tried  another  coup.  That  failed  too.'7 

' l  How  is  it  possible  to  go  on  with  the  business  ? ' ' 
"It  isn't.  I  have  closed  out.  But  I  have  escaped 
bankruptcy.  People  on  the  street  think  that  I  wanted 
to  get  into  the  real  estate  business — with  Andrew 
Weston,  a  young  man  who  has  recently  come  here  from 
Los  Angeles.  He's  doing  fairly  well  and  has  a  good 
office.  He  wanted  a  hustler  and  a  partner  who  had  good 
connections.  But  it  is  slow  work.  There  are  the  old 
firms,  again,  to  compete  with.  I  wouldn't  have  looked 
at  it  if  I'd  had  any  choice,  but  it  was  a  case  of  a  port 
in  a  storm/' 

"Well?  Is  that  all?  There  is  another  matter  to  dis 
cuss.  Our  future  mode  of  living." 

"No,  it  isn't  all.  I  wish  you  would  tell  Gora  some 
thing.  I  can  never  go  through  this  again.  While  she 
was  away — in  Honolulu — that  lawyer  of  my  aunt  sent 
out  ten  thousand  dollars'  worth  more  of  stock,  that  had 
been  looked  upon  as  so  much  waste  paper,  but  suddenly 
appreciated — some  little  railroad  that  was  abandoned 
half  finished,  but  has  since  been  completed.  This  had 
been  left  to  Gora  alone.  We  had  some  correspondence 
and  he  sent  it  to  me  as  Gora  was  traveling.  It  came  at 
the  wrong  time  for  me  ...  on  top  of  everything  else. 
...  I  plunged  in  a  new  mine  Bob  Cheever  and  Bascom 
Luning  were  interested  in.  It  turned  out  to  be  no  good. 
We  lost  every  cent." 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          221 

n 

Alexina  sat  cold  and  rigid.  Once  she  pinched  her 
arm.  She  fancied  it  had  turned  to  stone. 

He  dropped  into  a  chair  and  leaning  forward  twisted 
his  hands  together. 

"If  you  knew  ...  if  you  knew  .  .  .  what  I  have 
been  through.  ...  At  first  it  was  only  the  anxiety  and 
excitement.  But  afterward,  when  it  was  over  .  .  .  when 
there  was  nothing  left  to  speculate  with  .  .  .  then  I 
realized  what  I  had  done  ...  I  ...  a  thief  ...  a 
thief.  ...  I  had  been  so  proud  of  my  honor,  my  hon 
esty.  I  never  had  believed  that  I  could  even  be  tempted. 
And  I  went  to  pieces  like  a  cheaply  built  schooner  in  its 
first  storm.  There's  nothing,  it  seems,  in  being  well 
brought  up,  when  circumstances  are  too  strong  for  you. ' ' 

Alexina  forebore  the  obvious  reply.  "Of  course  you 
were  a  little  mad, ' '  she  said,  rather  at  a  loss. 

' '  No,  I  wasn  't.  I  'd  always  been  a  cool  speculator,  and 
I'd  never  taken  long  chances  in  business  before.  It  all 
looked  too  good  and  I  got  in  too  deep.  But  if  I  could 
have  repaid  it  all  I'd  feel  nearly  as  demoralized.  That 
I  should  have  stolen  .  .  .  and  from  women.  ..." 

Again  Alexina  restrained  herself.  The  dead  monot 
onous  voice  went  on. 

"I  thought  once  or  twice  of  killing  myself.  It  didn't 
seem  to  me  that  I  had  the  right  to  live.  I  had  always 
had  the  best  ideals,  the  strictest  sense  of  right  and  wrong 
...  It  does  not  seem  possible  even  now." 

Alexina  could  endure  no  more.  Another  moment  and 
she  felt  that  she  should  be  looking  straight  into  a  naked 
soul.  She  felt  so  sorry  for  him  that  she  quite  forgot  her 
own  wrongs  or  her  horror  of  his  misdeeds.  She  wished 
that  she  still  loved  him,  he  looked  so  forlorn  and  in  need 
of  the  physical  demonstrations  of  sympathy ;  but  although 
she  was  prepared  to  defend  him  if  need  be,  and  help 
him  as  best  she  could,  she  felt  that  she  would  willingly 
die  rather  than  touch  him.  .  .  .  She  wondered  if  souls 
in  dissolution  subtly  wafted  their  odors  of  corruption  if 
you  drew  too  close.  .  .  . 

"Well,  what  is  done  is  done,"  she  said  briskly.  "I'll 
tell  Gora  and  engage  that  she  will  never  mention  it.  You 


222          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

have  suffered  enough.  Now  let  us  discuss  ways  and 
means.  Does  this  new  business  permit  you  to  contribute 
anything  to  the  household  expenses  ? ' ' 

"I'm  afraid  not.  It  takes  time  to  work  up  a  busi 
ness." 

1  i  Then  we  must  live  on  what  I  have  left,  and  you  know 
what  taxes  are.  I  suppose  I  had  better  look  for  a  job." 

"What?"  He  seemed  to  spring  out  of  his  apathy, 
and  stared  at  her  incredulously.  ' '  You  ? ' ' 

"Yes.  We  must  have  more  money.  I  could  sell  the 
flats  and  go  into  the  decorating  business. ' ' 

"And  advertise  to  all  San  Francisco  that  I  am  a 
failure?  Do  you  think  I  could  fool  them  then?" 

"Are  you  sure  you  have  fooled  them  now?  They 
must  know  you  would  have  stuck  to  the  old  business  if 
it  had  paid." 

"It  isn't  the  first  time  a  man  has  changed  his  busi 
ness.  But  if  you  go  out  to  earn  money — why,  I'd  be  a 
laughing  stock." 

' '  Then  we  shall  have  to  give  up  the  house.  The  city 
has  long  wanted  this  lot " 

* '  That  would  never  do,  either.  Everybody  knows  how 
devoted  you  are  to  your  old  home  .  .  .  and  after  fixing 
it  up.  .  .  ." 

"Well,  what  do  you  suggest?  You  know  perfectly 
well  we  can't  go  on." 

"My  brain  seems  to  have  stopped.  I  can't  do  much 
thinking.  But  .  .  .  well  .  .  .  you  might  sell  the  flats 
and  we  could  go  on  as  before  until  my  business  begins 
to  pay." 

"Sacrifice  more  of  my  capital?  That  I  won't  do. 
Why  don't  you  see  if  you  can  get  back  with  Cheever 
Harrison  and  Cheever?  I  know  that  Bob " 

1 1 1  won 't  go  back  to  being  a  salaried  man.  You  can 't 
go  back  like  that  when  you've  been  in  the  other  class." 
He  beat  a  fist  into  a  palm.  * '  Why  couldn  't  Bob  Cheever 
have  left  me  alone  ?  So  long  as  I  didn  't  know  anything 
about  Society  I  never  thought  about  it.  Why  couldn't 
your  family  have  let  me  stay  where  I  was?  I  should 
have  been  head  clerk  with  a  good  salary  by  this  time, 
and  we  would  have  arranged  our  expenses  accordingly 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  223 

when  your  mother  died.  Why  can't  men  give  a  young 
fellow  a  better  chance  when  he  goes  into  business  for 
himself?  Every  man  trying  to  cut  every  other  man's 
throat.  What  chance  has  a  young  fellow  with  a  small 
capital  1" 

"Do  you  know  that  you  have  blamed  everybody  but 
yourself?  However  .  .  .  perhaps  you  are  right.  .  .  . 
Mr.  Kirkpatrick  puts  it  down  to  the  system.  I  feel  more 
inclined  to  trace  it  straight  back  to  old  Dame  Nature — 
all  the  ancestral  inheritances  down  in  our  sub-cellars. 
We  are  as  we  are  made  and  our  characters  are  certainly 
our  fate.  I  suppose  you  will  at  least  resign  from  the 
club?" 

He  set  his  lips  in  the  hard  line  that  made  him  look  the 
man  of  character  his  ancestor,  John  Dwight,  had  been 
when  he  legislated  in  the  first  Congress.  "No,  I  shall 
not  resign.  It  would  be  bad  business  in  two  ways :  they 
would  know  I  was  hard  up,  and  I  should  no  longer  meet 
in  the  same  way  the  men  who  can  give  me  a  leg  up  in 
business. ' ' 

"Are  you  sure  those  are  the  only  reasons ?" 

To  this  he  did  not  deign  to  reply,  and  she  asked :  "Do 
you  mean  that  you  shall  go  on  speculating?" 

"I've  nothing  to  speculate  with.  I  mean  that  the 
men  I  cultivate  can  help  me  in  business." 

"They  don't  seem  to  have  done  much  in  the  past. 
However  ...  At  least  I'll  send  in  our  resignations  to 
the  Golf  Club.  As  we  use  it  so  seldom  no  one  will  notice. 
Now  I  'm  going  upstairs  to  think  it  all  over.  To-morrow 
I  shall  do  something.  I  don't  know  what  it  will  be, 
yet." 

He  stood  up.  "Promise  me,"  he  said  with  firm  mas 
culine  insistence,  "that  you  will  neither  go  into  any  sort 
of  money-making  scheme  or  sell  this  house. ' '  His  tones 
had  distinctly  more  life  in  them  and  he  had  recovered 
his  usual  bearing  of  the  lordly  but  gallant  male.  His 
eyes  were  as  stern  as  his  lips. 

Alexina  stared  at  him  for  a  moment  in  amazement, 
then  reflected  that  apparently  the  stupider  a  man  was 
the  more  difficult  he  was  to  understand.  She  nodded 
amiably. 


224  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

"No  doubt  I'll  think  of  some  other  way  out.  "Will  let 
you  know  at  dinner  time.  Don't  expect  me  at  breakfast. 
Good-night. " 


CHAPTER  XIII 


A  LEXINA  was  driving  her  little  car  up  the  avenue 
^*  at  Rincona  on  the  following  morning  when  she  saw 
Joan  running  toward  her  through  the  park  and  signal 
ing  to  her  to  stop. 

* '  What  is  it  ? "  she  asked  in  some  alarm  as  Joan  arrived 
panting.  * '  Any  one  ill  ? ' ' 

"Not  so's  you'd  notice  it.  Leave  your  car  here  and 
come  with  me.  Sneak  after  me  quietly  and  don't  say  a 
word." 

Much  mystified,  Alexina  ran  her  car  off  the  road  and 
followed  her  niece  by  a  devious  route  toward  the  house. 
Joan  interested  her  mildly ;  she  had  fulfilled  some  of  her 
predictions  but  not  all.  She  did  not  go  with  the  * '  fast 
set"  even  of  the  immediate  neighborhood;  that  is  to  say 
the  small  group  called  upon,  as  they  indubitably  "be 
longed,  ' '  but  wholly  disapproved  of,  who  entertained  in 
some  form  or  other  every  day  and  every  night,  played 
poker  for  staggering  stakes,  danced  the  wildest  of  the 
new  dances,  made  up  brazenly,  and  found  tea  and  coffee 
indifferent  stimulants.  Two  of  Joan's  former  school 
mates  belonged  to  this  active  set,  but  she  was  only  per 
mitted  to  meet  them  at  formal  dinners  and  large  parties. 
She  had  rebelled  at  first,  but  her  mother 's  firm  hand  was 
too  much  for  her  still  undeveloped  will,  and  later  she 
had  concluded  "there  was  nothing  in  it  anyhow;  just 
the  whole  tiresome  society  game  raised  to  the  nth  de 
gree."  Moreover,  she  was  socially  as  conventional  as 
her  mother  and  her  good  gray  aunts,  and  although  full 
of  the  mischief  of  youth,  and  longing  to  "do  some 
thing,  ' '  no  prince  having  captured  her  fancy,  enough  of 
what  Alexina  called  the  sound  Ballinger  instincts  re- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  225 

mained  to  make  her  disapprove  of  "fast  lots/'  and  she 
had  progressed  from  radical  eighteen  to  critical  twenty- 
one.  She  worked  off  her  superfluous  spirits  at  the  out 
door  games  which  may  be  indulged  in  California  for 
eight  months  of  the  year,  rode  horseback  every  day, 
used  all  her  brothers'  slang  she  could  remember  when 
in  the  society  of  such  uncritical  friends  as  her  young 
Aunt  Alexina,  and  bided  her  time.  Sooner  or  later  she 
was  determined  to  "get  out  and  hustle," — "shake  a 
leg."  That  would  be  the  only  complete  change  from 
her  present  life,  not  matrimony  and  running  with  fast 
sets.  She  wanted  more  money,  she  wanted  to  live  alone, 
and,  while  devoted  to  her  family,  she  wanted  interests 
they  could  not  furnish,  "no,  not  in  a  thousand  years." 

H 

Joan's  slim  boyish  athletic  figure  darted  on  ahead 
and  then  approached  the  rear  of  the  house  on  tiptoe. 
Alexina  followed  in  the  same  stealthy  fashion,  feeling 
no  older  at  the  moment  than  her  niece.  The  verandah 
did  not  extend  as  far  as  the  music  room,  which  had  been 
built  a  generation  later,  and  the  windows  were  some 
eight  feet  from  the  ground.  A  ladder,  however,  abridged 
the  distance,  and  Alexina,  obeying  a  gesture  from  Joan, 
climbed  as  hastily  as  her  narrow  skirt  would  permit  and 
peered  through  the  outside  shutters,  which  had  been 
carefully  closed. 

The  room  was  not  dark,  however.  The  electricity  had 
been  turned  on  and  shone  down  upon  an  amazing  sight. 

Clad  in  black  bloomers  and  stockings  lay  a  row  of  six 
women  flat  on  the  floor,  while  in  front  of  them  stood  a 
woman  thin  to  emaciation,  who  was  evidently  talking 
rapidly.  Alexina 's  mouth  opened  as  widely  as  her  eyes. 
She  had  heard  of  Devil  Worship,  of  strange  and  awful 
rites  that  took  place  at  midnight  in  wickedest  Paris. 
Had  an  expurgated  edition  been  brought  to  chaste  Alta 
— plus  Menlo — plus  Atherton,  by  Mrs.  Hunter  or  Mrs. 
Thornton,  or  any  of  those  fortunate  Californians  who 
visited  the  headquarters  of  fashion  and  sin  once  a  year? 
They  would  do  a  good  deal  to  vary  the  monotony  of  life. 


226          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

But  that  they  should  have  corrupted  Maria  .  .  .  the  im 
peccable,  the  superior,  the  unreorientable  Maria !  Maria, 
with  whom  contentment  and  conservatism  were  the  first 
articles  of  the  domestic  and  the  socio-religious  creed ! 

For  there  lay  Maria,  extended  full  length ;  and  on  her 
calm  white  face  was  a  look  of  unholy  joy.  Beside  her, 
as  flat  as  if  glued  to  the  inlaid  floor,  were  Mrs.  Hunter, 
Mrs.  Thornton,  Coralie  Geary,  Mrs.  Brannan,  another 
old  friend  of  Maria,  and — yes — Tom's  sister,  Susan 
Delling,  austere  in  her  virtues,  kind  to  all,  conscientious 
ly  smart,  and  with  a  fine  mahogany  complexion  that 
made  even  a  merely  powdered  woman  feel  not  so  much 
a  harlot  as  a  social  inferior. 

What  on  earth  .  .  .  what  on  earth  .  .  . 

The  thin  loquacious  stranger  clapped  her  hands.  Up 
went  six  pairs  of  legs.  Two  remained  in  mid-air,  Mrs. 
Geary's  and  Mrs.  Brannan 's  having  met  an  immovable 
obstacle  shortly  above  the  hip-joints.  Three  bent  back 
ward  slowly  but  surely  until  they  approached  the  region 
of  the  neck.  Maria's  flew  unerringly,  effortlessly,  up, 
back,  until  they  tapped  the  floor  behind  her  head.  Alex- 
ina  almost  shouted  " Bravo."  Maria  was  a  real  sport. 

Six  times  they  repeated  this  fascinating  rite/  and  then, 
obeying  another  peremptory  command,  they  rolled  over 
abruptly  and  balanced  on  all  fours.  Alexina  could  stand 
no  more.  She  dropped  down  the  ladder  and  ran  after 
Joan,  who  was  disappearing  round  the  corner  of  the 
house. 

in 

"Well,  I  never!"  she  exclaimed.  "Maria!  Your 
mo " 

"She  gained  three  pounds,  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life,  and  you  know  her  figure  is  her  only  vanity.  This 
woman  came  along  and  the  whole  Peninsula  is  crazy 
about  her.  She's  taken  the  fat  off  every  woman  in  New 
York,  and  came  out  with  letters  to  a  lot  of  women. 
Mother  fell  for  her  hard.  I  nearly  passed  away  when 
I  peeked  through  that  shutter  the  first  time.  Mother! 
She's  the  best  of  the  bunch,  though.  But  they're  all 
having  a  perfectly  grand  time.  New  interest  for  middle- 
age — what?" 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  227 

11  Don't  be  cruel.  Heavens,  how  hot  they  all  looked! 
I  could  hear  them  gasp.  Hope  their  arteries  are  all 
right.  Are  they  going  to  stay  to  lunch  ?" 

"No.  There's  a  big  one  on  in  Burlingame.  Mother's 
not  going,  though.  It's  at  that  Mrs.  Cutts',  new  Bur 
lingame  stormer,  that  Anne  Montgomery  coaches  and 
caters  for  and  who  gives  wonderful  entertainments. 
Mother  and  Aunt  Susan  won't  go,  but  nearly  all  the 
others  do." 

I  'Anne  Montgomery.    I  haven't  seen  her  since  mother 
died." 

"  You  look  as  if  an  idea  had  struck  you.  She's  useful 
no  end,  they  say;  is  now  a  social  secretary  to  a  lot  of 
new  people,  and  sells  the  'real  lace'  and  other  super 
fluous  luxuries  of  some  of  our  old  families  for  the  cold 
coin  that  buys  comforts." 

I 1  Fine  idea.    But  I  'm  glad  your  mother  will  be  alone. 
I  've  come  down  to  have  a  talk  with  her. ' ' 

' '  Thanks.    I  '11  take  the  hint. ' ' 


CHAPTER  XIV 


A  LEXINA  went  up  to  Joan's  room  to  remain  until 
•**•  the  gong  sounded  for  luncheon,  when  she  drifted 
down  innocently  and  kissed  the  somewhat  furtive-look 
ing  Maria,  who  was  in  chaste  duck  and  fresh  from  a 
bath. 

"So  glad  to  see  you,  darling,"  she  murmured  almost 
effusively.  "I  hope  you  haven't  waited  long.  A  num 
ber  of  my  friends  have  a  lesson  every  Thursday  morn 
ing,  and  meet  at  one  house  or  another. ' ' 

"Irregular  French  verbs,  I  suppose.  So  fascinating, 
and  one  does  forget  so.  I  thought  I'd  never  brush  up 
my  French." 

Not  for  anything  would  she  have  forced  Maria  into 
the  most  innocent  equivocation,  and  she  rattled  on  about 


228          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

her  wonderful  summer  as  people  are  expected  to  do  after 
their  first  visit  to  Europe. 

No  time  could  have  been  more  propitious  for  this  nec 
essary  understanding  with  Maria,  who  was  feeling  amia 
ble,  apologetic,  as  limber  as  Joan,  and  almost  as  warm. 
She  had  also  lost  two-thirds  of  a  pound. 


n 

Alexina  began  as  soon  as  Joan  left  them  alone  on  the 
shady  side  of  the  wide  piazza. 

"I  have  a  lot  of  things  to  tell  you,"  she  said  nervous 
ly.  "I  have  to  make  certain  economies  and  I  want  the 
benefit  of  your  ad  vice. " 

Mrs.  Abbott  looked  up  from  her  embroidery.  "Of 
course,  darling.  I  was  afraid  you  were  going  a  little  too 
fast  for  young  people. " 

*  *  That  is  not  it.  I  always  managed  well  enough.  .  .  . 
You  know  we've  never  gone  the  limit:  polo  at  Bur- 
lingame  and  Monterey,  gambling,  big  parties  and  all  the 
rest  of  it.  I  Ve  never  run  into  debt  or  spent  any  of  my 
capital.  But  .  .  ." 

Maria  began  to  feel  anxious  and  took  off  the  large 
round  shell-rimmed  spectacles  that  enlarged  stitches  and 
print.  "Yes?" 

1  '  You  know  I  had  bonds — about  forty  thousand  dollars ' 
worth — those  that  mother  left:  I  spent  those  that  Bal- 
linger  and  Geary  gave  me  on  the  house  and  one  thing 
and  another." 

"Yes?"  Mrs.  Abbott  was  now  alarmed.  She  had  a 
very  keen  sense  of  the  value  of  money,  like  most  persons 
that  have  inherited  it,  and  was  extremely  conservative 
in  its  use. 

' '  Well,  you  see,  I  thought  I  saw  a  chance  to  treble  it — 
we  never  really  had  enough — and  I  speculated  and  lost 
it." 

Alexina  was  a  passionate  lover  of  the  truth,  but  she 
could  always  lie  like  a  gentleman. 

Maria  Abbott  readjusted  her  spectacles  and  took  a 
stitch  or  two  in  her  linen.  She  was  aghast  and  did  not 
care  to  speak  for  a  moment.  She  was  no  fool  and  Tom 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          229 

had  told  her  that  Mortimer  had  changed  his  business  and 
might  bluff  the  street,  but  could  never  bluff  him.  She 
knew  quite  as  well  as  if  Alexina  had  confessed  it  that 
Mortimer  had  lost  the  money,  either  in  his  business  or 
in  stocks;  although  of  course  she  was  far  from  suspect 
ing  the  whole  truth. 

m 

1 '  That  is  dreadful, ' '  she  said  finally.  ' '  I  wish  you  had 
consulted  Tom.  He  understands  stocks  as  he  does  every 
thing  else." 

"I  thought  I  had  the  best  tips.  However — the  thing 
is  done,  and  the  point  is  that  I  must  make  great  changes. 
Mortimer  is  not  making  as  much  as  he  was,  either;  he 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  couldn  't  get  anywhere  in 
that  business  on  so  small  a  capital,  and  has  gone  into 
real  estate.  It  will  be  some  time  before  he  makes  enough 
to  keep  things  going  in  the  old  way.  I  made  all  my 
plans  last  night  and  came  down  to  ask  you  if  you  could 
take  James.  He  has  been  with  us  so  long;  I  can't  let 
him  go  to  strangers.  Then  I  shall  turn  out  all  those 
high-priced  servants  and  get  a  woman  to  do  general 
housework.  Alice  says  her  aunt  always  gets  green  ones 
from  an  agency  and  breaks  them  in.  They  are  quite 
cheap.  I  shall  help  her,  of  course,  and  if  she  doesn't 
know  much  about  cooking  I  know  a  little  and  can  learn 
more.  I  shall  shut  up  the  big  drawing-room,  put  every 
thing  into  moth  balls,  and  give  out  that  the  doctor  has 
ordered  me  to  rest  this  winter,  to  go  to  bed  every  night 
at  eight.  That  will  stop  people  coming  up  three  or  four 
times  a  week  to  dance.  And  I  can  sell  the  new  clothes 
I  brought  from  Paris  and  New  York  to  Polly  Roberts. 
She's  just  my  height  and  weight.  Of  course  I  must  tell 
the  girls  the  truth — that  I'm  economizing;  but  wild 
horses  wouldn't  drag  it  put  of  them.  I  don't  care  tup 
pence,  but  Morty  says  it  would  hurt  his  business.  I 
rather  like  the  idea  of  working.  I'm  tired  of  the  old 
round,  and  would  like  to  get  a  job  if  Morty  wasn't  so 
opposed — says  it  would  ruin  him." 

"I  should  think  so.  At  least  let  us  wash  our  dirty 
linen  at  home.  ...  I  have  been  thinking  while  you 


230  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

talked.  I  Ve  only  spent  two  whole  winters  in  town  since 
I  married,  and  I've  always  thought  I'd  love  to  live  in 
the  old  house.  I've  rather  envied  you,  Alexina,  dear 
...  it  is  so  full  of  happy  memories  for  me.  I  did  have 
such  a  good  time  as  a  girl  .  .  .  such  a  good,  simple  time. 
.  .  .  I'm  wondering  if  Tom  wouldn't  rent  it  for  the 
winter  and  spring.  He's  been  doing  splendidly  these 
last  two  or  three  years,  and  he  owned  some  of  the  prop 
erty  west  of  Twin  Peaks  that  is  building  up  so  fast.  I 
know  he  sold  it  for  quite  a  lot.  .  .  .  And  I  sometimes 
wonder  if  he  doesn't  get  as  tired  of  living  in  the  same 
place  year  after  year  as  I  do.  He  could  play  golf  at  the 
Ingleside.  ...  I  am  sure  he  will.  ...  It  would  be  the 
very  best  thing  all  round.  Then  we  could  run  the  house, 
and  you  and  Mortimer  would  pay  something — never 
mind  what.  .  .  .  People  would  think  it  was  the  other 
way,  if  they  thought  anything  about  it.  Families  often 
double  up  in  that  fashion/' 

"Maria!  I  can't  believe  it.  It  would  be  too  perfect 
a  solution,  provided  of  course  that  we  pay  all  we  cost. 
I  should  insist  upon  keeping  the  slips  as  usual.  You 
are  an  angel." 

"We  Groomes  and  Ballingers  always  stand  by  one 
another,  don't  we?  The  Abbotts,  too.  Besides,  it  will 
certainly  be  no  sacrifice  on  any  of  our  parts.  It  will 
mean  a  great  deal  to  me  to  spend  six  months  in  town, 
and  I  know  that  Tom  has  grown  as  tired  of  motoring 
back  and  forth  every  day  as  he  used  to  be  of  the  train. ' ' 

'  *  It  will  be  heavenly  just  having  you. ' '  Alexina  spoke 
with  perfect  sincerity.  She  had  not  faltered  before  the 
prospect  of  work,  but  that  of  Mortimer's  society  unre 
lieved  for  an  indefinite  time  had  filled  her  with  some 
thing  like  panic.  It  had  been  the  one  test  of  her  powers 
of  endurance  of  which  she  had  not  felt  assured. 

' '  That  will  give  us  time,  too,  to  get  on  our  feet  again. 
Morty  is  very  hopeful  of  this  new  business.  I  shall  go 
out  very  little,  and  as  Joan  will  be  the  natural  center 
of  attraction  it  will  be  understood  that  her  friends,  not 
mine,  have  the  run  of  the  house." 

Maria  nodded.  "It's  just  the  thing  for  Joan.  Really 
a  godsend.  She  worries  me  more  than  all  three  of  the 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          231 

boys.  They  are  east  at  school  for  the  winter  and  of 
course  don't  come  home  for  the  Christmas  holidays.  If 
you  want  to  be  housekeeper  you  may.  I  don't  know  any 
thing  I  should  like  better  than  a  rest  from  ordering 
dinner,  after  all  these  years." 

' '  Perfect !  1 11  also  take  care  of  my  room  and  Morty  's. 
Then  I'd  be  sure  I  wasn't  really  imposing  on  you. 
You're  a  dead  game  sport,  Maria,  and  I'd  like  to  drink 
your  health." 


CHAPTER  XV 


T\/fORTIMER  looked  nonplussed  when  Alexina  in- 
*  •*  formed  him  at  dinner  of  the  immediate  solution 
of  their  difficulties.  He  detested  Tom  and  Maria  Ab 
bott;  there  were  certain  things  he  could  forget  in  his 
aristocratic  wife's  presence,  far  as  she  had  withdrawn, 
but  never  in  theirs.  Moreover  he  feared  Abbott.  He 
was  as  keen  as  a  hawk;  an  unconsidered  word  and  he 
might  as  well  have  told  the  whole  story.  Well,  he  never 
talked  much  anyhow ;  he  would  merely  talk  less. 

When  Alexina  asked  him  if  he  had  any  better  plan  to 
propose  he  was  forced  to  shrug  his  shoulders  and  set  his 
lips  in  a  straight  line  of  resignation.  When  she  told 
him  what  her  original  plan  had  been  he  was  so  ap 
palled,  so  humiliated  at  the  bare  thought  of  his  wife 
in  a  servant's  apron  (to  say  nothing  of  the  culinary  ar 
rangements)  that  he  almost  warmed  to  the  Abbotts. 


Ten  days  later,  on  the  eve  of  the  Abbotts'  arrival,  the 
equanimity  of  spirit  he  was  striving  to  regain  by  the 
simple  process  of  thinking  of  something  else  when  his 
late  delinquencies  obtruded  themselves,  received  a  severe 
shock.  Alexina  handed  him  a  cheque  for  ten  thousand 
dollars  and  asked  him  to  place  it  to  Gora's  account  in 
the  bank  where  she  kept  her  savings. 


232          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

*  '"Where  did  you  get  it  ? "  he  asked  stupidly,  staring  at 
the  slip  of  paper  so  heavily  freighted. 

' '  Anne  Montgomery  sold  some  of  my  things  to  a  good- 
natured  ignoramus  whose  husband  made  a  fortune  in 
Tonopah.  She  doesn't  know  how  to  buy  and  Anne  ad 
vises  her. J ' 

"What  did  you  sell?    Your  jewels?" 

"Some.  I  never  wear  anything  but  the  pearls  any 
how;  and  it's  bad  taste  to  wear  jewels  unless  you're 
wealthy.  I  had  some  old  lace  that  is  hard  to  buy  now, 
and  real  lace  isn  't  the  fashion  any  more.  New  rich  peo 
ple  always  think  it's  just  the  thing.  I  also  sold  her  two 
of  the  biggest  and  clumsiest  of  the  Italian  pieces.  She 
is  crazy  about  them.  Anne  told  her  that  they  were  as 
good  as  a  passport." 

Mortimer  sprang  to  the  only,  the  naive,  the  eternal 
masculine  conclusion. 

"You  do  love  me  still!"  The  dull  eyes  of  his  spirit 
flashed  with  the  sudden  rejuvenation  of  his  heavy  body. 
"I  never  really  believed  you  had  ceased  to  care  .  .  . 
you  were  capricious  like  all  women  ...  a  little  spoilt. 
I  knew  that  if  I  had  patience  .  .  .  Only  a  loving  wife 
would  do  such  a  thing." 

Alexina  made  a  wry  face  at  the  banality  of  his  climax, 
although  the  fatuous  outburst  had  barely  amused  her. 

1 1  No,  I  don 't  love  you  in  the  least,  Mortimer,  and  never 
shall.  Make  up  your  mind  to  that.  Love  some  one  else 
if  you  like.  ...  I  did  this  for  two  reasons:  I  did  not 
have  the  courage  to  tell  Gora  the  truth — and  that  I  was 
too  unjust  and  penurious  to  restore  the  money  you  had 
taken ;  and  as  your  wife  it  would  have  hurt  my  pride  un 
bearably.  ' y 

"And  you  are  not  afraid  to  trust  me  with  this  mon 
ey?"  he  asked,  his  voice  toneless. 

"Not  in  the  least.  There's  no  other  way  to  manage  it 
and  I  fancy  you  know  what  would  happen  if  you  didn't 
hand  it  over.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  the  last  straw. ' ' 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  233 


CHAPTER  XV 


T  T  was  a  week  later.  Alexina  was  changing  her  dress. 
•*•  Maria  had  asked  a  number  of  her  girlhood  friends  in 
for  luncheon,  and  they  were  to  exchange  reminiscences 
in  the  old  house  over  a  table  laden  as  of  yore  with  the 
massive  Ballinger  silver,  English  cutglass,  and  French 
china.  Alexina  was  about  to  take  refuge  with  Janet 
Maynard. 

Her  door  opened  unceremoniously  and  Gora  entered. 

Alexina  caught  her  breath  as  she  saw  her  sister-in- 
law's  eyes.  They  looked  like  polar  seas  in  a  tropical 
storm. 

* '  Why,  Gora,  dear, ' '  she  said  lightly.  ' '  I  thought  you 
were  on  an  important  case. ' ' 

"Man  died  last  night.  I  have  just  been  to  see  Morti 
mer.  When  I  got  his  note — just  three  lines — saying  that 
he  had  received  a  cheque  from  Utica  and  deposited  it  to 
my  account  I  knew  at  once — as  soon  as  I  had  time  to 
think — there  was  something  wrong.  The  natural  thing 
would  have  been  to  call  me  up — couldn't  tell  me  the 
good  news  too  soon.  .  .  .  And  there  was  a  hollow  ring 
about  that  note.  .  .  .  Well,  as  soon  as  I  woke  up  to-day 
I  went  straight  down  to  his  office.  I  had  to  wait  an 
hour.  When  he  came  in  and  saw  me  he  turned  green. 
I  marched  him  into  a  back  room  and  corkscrewed  the 
truth  out  of  him — the  whole  truth.  Then  I  blasted  him. 
He  knows  exactly  what  one  person  in  this  world  thinks 
of  him,  what  everybody  else  would  think  of  him  if  he 
were  found  out.  I  gathered  that  you  had  let  him  down 
easy.  Your  toploftical  pride,  I  suppose.  Well,  I  must 
have  a  good  plebeian  streak  in  me  somewhere  and  for 
the  first  time  I  was  glad  of  it.  When  I  left  him  he  looked 
shrunken  to  half  his  natural  size.  His  eyes  looked  like 
a  dead  fish's  and  all  the  muscles  of  his  face  had  given 
Way.  He  looked  as  if  he  were  going  to  die  and  I  wish 


234  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

he  would.    Faugh!    A  thief  in  the  family.    That  at 
least  we  never  had  before. ' ' 

1  'Don't  be  too  sure.  Remember  nobody  else  knows 
about  Morty,  and  everybody '11  go  on  thinking  he's  hon 
est.  Half  our  friends  may  be  thieves  for  all  we  know, 
and  as  for  our  ancestors — what  are  you  doing?" 


Gora  had  taken  a  roll  of  yellow  bills  from  her  purse. 
She  counted  them  on  the  table;  ten  bills  denominating  a 
thousand  dollars  each. 

"I  won't  take  them,"  said  Alexina  stiff  y.  "I  think 
you  are  horrid,  simply  horrid." 

"And  do  you  imagine  I  would  keep  it?  What  do  you 
take  me  for?" 

1  '  I  am  in  a  way  responsible  for  Mortimer  's  debts  —  his 
partner.  '  ' 

'  '  That  cuts  no  ice  with  me  —  nor  with  you.  That  is  not 
the  reason  you  sold  your  jewels  and  laces  and  those 
superb  -  Oh,  you  poor  child!  If  I'm  furious,  it's 
more  for  you  than  on  any  other  account.  You  don't  de 
serve  such  a  fate  -  " 

"I  don't  deserve  to  have  you  treat  me  so  ungrate 
fully.  I  can't  get  my  things  back.  I  wanted  you  to 
have  the  money  more  than  I  cared  for  those  things,  any 
how.  I  have  no  use  for  the  money.  I  don't  owe  any 
thing  and  the  rent  Tom  pays  me  for  six  months  will  help 
me  to  run  the  house  for  the  rest  of  the  year  and  pay 
taxes  besides.  So,  you  just  keep  it,  Gora.  It's  yours 
and  that's  the  end  of  it." 

'  l  This  is  the  end  of  it  as  far  as  I  'm  concerned.  '  '  She 
opened  the  secret  drawer  of  the  cabinet  and  stuffed  in 
the  bills.  '  '  They're  safe  from  any  sort  of  burglars  there. 
But  not  from  fire.  Bank  them  to-morrow." 

"I'll  not  touch  them." 

"Nor  I  either." 


m 


Gora  threw  her  hat  on  the  floor  and  sitting  down  be 
fore  the  table  thrust  her  hands  into  her  hair  and  tugged 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          235 

at  the  roots.  "I  always  do  this  when  I'm  excited — 
which  is  oftener  than  you  think.  What  dreams  I  had 
that  first  night — I  got  his  note  late  and  was  too  tired 
to  reason,  to  suspect.  ...  I  just  dreamed  until  I  fell 
asleep.  I'd  start  for  England  a  week  later — for  Eng 
land  !" 

Goose  flesh  made  Alexina 's  delicate  body  feel  like  a 
cold  nutmeg  grater.  " England?" 

"Yes!  ...  ah  ...  you  see,  it's  the  only  place  where 
literary  recognition  counts  for  anything." 

"Oh?  I  rather  thought  the  British  authors  looked 
upon  Uncle  Sam  in  the  light  of  a  fairy  godfather.  Our 
recognition  counts  for  a  good  deal,  I  should  say.  I  never 
thought  you  were  snobbish." 

1 1 1  'm  not  really.  Only  London  is  a  sort  of  Mecca  for 
writers  just  as  Paris  is  for  women  of  fashion.  .  .  .  Just 
fancy  being  feted  in  London  after  you  had  written  a  suc 
cessful  novel." 

"I'd  far  rather  receive  recognition  in  my  own  coun-' 
try,"  said  Alexina,  elevating  her  classic  American 
profile.  She  was  not  feeling  in  the  least  patriotic,  how 
ever.  "You'd  see  your  friend  Gathbroke,  though.  That 
would  be  jolly.  Do  take  the  money,  Gora,  and  don't  be 
a  goose." 

4  *  That  subject 's  closed.  Don 't  let  me  keep  you.  James 
told  me  that  Maria  is  having  a  luncheon,  and  I  suppose 
that  means  you  are  going  out.  I'll  rest  here  for  awhile 
if  you  don't  mind." 


CHAPTER  XVI 


]\/f  ORTIMER  went  off  that  night  and  got  drunk.  It 
*•  •*•  was  the  first  time  in  his  life  and  possibly  his  last, 
but  he  made  a  thorough  job  of  it.  He  took  the  precau 
tion  to  telephone  to  the  house  that  he  was  going  out  of 
town,  but  when  he  returned  two  days  later  he  experi 
enced  a  distinct  pleasure  in  telling  Alexina  what  he  had 


236          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

done.  Alexina,  who  still  hoped  that  she  would  always 
be  able  to  regard  Life  as  God's  good  joke,  rather  sympa 
thized  with  him,  and  assured  him  that  he  would  have 
nothing  to  apprehend  from  Gora  in  the  future ;  she  had 
no  more  fervent  wish  than  to  keep  out  of  his  way. 


He  found  himself  on  the  whole  very  comfortable. 
Maria  was  always  most  kind,  Alexina  polite  and  amiable, 
and  Tom  * '  decent. ' '  Joan  liked  him  as  well  as  she  liked 
anybody,  and  when  the  family  spent  a  quiet  evening  at 
home  he  undertook  to  improve  her  dancing  and  she  was 
correspondingly  grateful;  it  had  been  her  weak  point. 
The  fiction  was  carefully  preserved  that  the  Dwights 
Were  conferring  a  favor  on  the  Abbotts  and  that  all  ex 
penses  were  equally  shared.  In  time  he  came  to  believe 
it,  and  his  hours  of  deep  depression,  when  he  had  pon 
dered  over  his  inexplicable  roguery,  grew  rarer  and 
finally  ceased.  After  all  he  had  had  nothing  to  lose  as 
far  as  Alexina  was  concerned;  one's  sister  hardly  mat 
tered  (Did  women  matter  much,  anyhow  ?) ;  and  his  sense 
of  security,  which  he  hugged  at  this  time  as  the  most 
precious  thing  he  had  ever  possessed,  at  last  made  him  a 
little  arrogant.  He  had  done  what  he  should  not,  of 
course,  but  it  was  over  and  done  with,  ancient  history; 
and  where  other  men  had  gone  to  State 's  Prison  for  less, 
he  had  been  protected  like  an  infant  from  a  rude  wind. 
He  knew  that  he  would  never  do  it  again  and  that  his 
position  in  life  was  as  assured  as  it  ever  had  been. 


ra 

He  spent  a  good  many  evenings  at  the  club,  and  Maria 
found  him  a  willing  cavalier  when  Tom  "drew  the  line" 
at  dancing  parties.  Alexina,  who  had  sold  her  car  to 
Janet  and  her  new  gowns  to  Polly,  had  announced  that 
she  was  bored  with  dancing  and  should  devote  the  winter 
to  study.  She  spent  the  evenings  either  in  her  library 
upstairs  or  with  her  friends.  Mortimer  saw  her  only  at 
the  table. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          237 

He  wondered  if  Tom  Abbott  would  rent  the  house 
every  winter.  A  pleasant  feeling  of  irresponsibility  was 
beginning  to  possess  his  jaded  spirit.  He  made  a  little 
money  occasionally,  but  he  was  no  longer  expected  to 
hand  anything  over  when  the  first  of  the  month  came 
round — a  date  that  had  haunted  him  like  a  nightmare  for 
four  long  years.  He  could  spend  it  on  himself,  and  he 
felt  an  increasing  pleasure  in  doing  so. 


CHAPTER  XVII 


naked  trees;  orchards  of  prune  and  peach  and 
cherry,  mile  after  mile.  Orange  trees  in  small  way 
side  gardens  heavy-laden  with  golden  fruit.  Tall  ac- 
cacias  a  mass  of  canary  colored  bloom.  Opulent  palms 
shivering  against  a  gray  sky.  Close  mountains  green 
and  dense  with  forest  trees,  their  crests  filagreed  with 
redwoods.  Far  mountains  lifting  their  bleak  ridges 
above  bare  brown  hills  thirsting  for  rain. 

The  heavy  rains  were  due.  It  was  late  in  January. 
Alexina  aiid  several  of  her  friends  were  motoring  back 
to  the  city  through  the  Santa  Clara  Valley,  after 
luncheon  with  the  Price  Ruylers  at  their  home  on  the 
mountain  above  Los  Gatos.  As  it  was  Sunday  there  was 
an  even  number  of  men  in  the  party,  and  Alexina,  ma 
neuvered  into  Jimmie  Thome's  roadster,  was  enduring 
with  none  of  the  sweet  womanly  graciousness  which  was 
hers  to  summon  at  will,  one  of  those  passionate  declara 
tions  of  love  which  no  beautiful  young  woman  out  of  love 
with  her  husband  may  hope  to  escape;  and  not  always 
when  in.  Alexina  had  grown  skillful  in  eluding  the 
reckless  verbalisms  of  love,  but  when  one  is  packed  into 
a  small  motor  car  with  a  determined  man,  desperately  in 
love,  one  might  as  well  try  to  wave  aside  the  whirlwind. 

Jimmie  Thome  was  a  fine  specimen  of  the  college-bred 
young  American  of  good  family  and  keen  professional 
mind.  He  has  no  place  in  this  biography  save  in  so  far 


238          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

as  he  jarred  the  inner  forces  of  Alexina 's  being,  and  he 
fell  at  Chateau-Thierry. 


Alexina  lifted  her  delicate  profile  and  gave  it  as  sulky 
an  expression  as  she  could  assume.  She  really  liked  him, 
but  was  annoyed  at  being  trapped. 

* '  I  don 't  in  the  least  wish  to  marry  you. ' ' 

"Everybody  knows  you  don't  care  a  straw  for  Dwight. 
You  could  easily  get  a  divorce " 

"On  what  grounds?  Besides,  I  don't  want  to.  I'd 
have  to  be  really  off  my  nead  about  a  man  even  to  think 
of  such  a  thing.  Our  family  has  kept)  out  of  the  divorce 
courts.  And  I  don't  care  two  twigs  for  you,  Jimmie 
dear." 

"I  don't  believe  it.  That  is,  I  know  I  could  make 
you  care.  You  don't  know  what  love  is " 

' '  I  suppose  you  are  about  to  say  that  you  think  I  think 
I  am  cold,  and  that  if  I  labor  under  this  delusion  it  is 
only  because  the  right  man  hasn't  come  along.  Well, 
Jimmie  dear,  you  would  only  be  the  sixteenth.  I  sup 
pose  men  will  keep  on  saying  it  until  I  am  forty — forty- 
five — what  is  the  limit  these  days?  I  know  exactly  what 
I  am  and  you  don't." 

"I'm  not  going  to  be  put  off  by  words.  Remember 
I  'm  a  lawyer  of  sorts.  God !  I  wish  I  'd  been  here  when 
you  married  that  codfish,  instead  of  studying  law  at 
Columbia.  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  I  couldn't  have  won 
you?" 

* '  No.  Almost  any  man  can  win  a  little  goose  of  eight 
een  if  circumstances  favor  him.  Twenty-five  is  another 
matter.  Oh,  but  vastly  another!  Even  if  I'd  never 
married  before  I'm  not  at  all  sure  I  should  have  fallen  in 
love  with  you." 

"Yes,  you  would.    You're  frozen  over,  that's  all." 

Alexina  sighed,  and  not  with  exasperation.  He  was 
very  charming,  magnetic,  companionable.  He  was  hand 
some  and  clever  and  manly.  She  could  feel  the  warmth 
of  his  young  virile  body  through  their  fur  coats,  and  her 
own  trembled  a  little.  ...  It  suddenly  came  to  her  that 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  239 


she  no  longer  owed  Mortimer  anything.  Their  "  part 
nership"  had  been  dissolved  by  his  own  act.  If  she 
could  have  loved  Jimmie  Thorne  with  something  beyond 
the  agreeable  response  of  the  mating-season  (any  season 
is  the  mating  season  in  California)  .  .  .  that  was  the 
trouble.  He  was  not  individual  enough  to  hold  her. 
Life  had  been  too  kind  to  him.  Save  for  this  unsatis 
fied  passion  he  was  perfectly  content  with  life.  Such 
men  do  not  "live."  They  may  have  charm,  but  not  fas 
cination.  .  .  .  Perhaps  it  was  as  well  after  all  that  she 
had  married  Mortimer.  Another  man  might  not  have 
been  so  easily  disposed  of. 

* '  Jimmie  dear,  if  it  were  a  question  of  a  few  months, 
and  I  made  a  cult  of  men  as  some  women  do,  it  would  be 
all  right.  But  marry  another  man  that  I  am  not  sure — 
that  I  know  I  don't  want  to  spend  my  life  with.  Oh, 
no." 

He  looked  somewhat  scandalized.  Like  many  Ameri 
can  men  he  was  even  more  conventional  than  most 
women  are;  he  was,  moreover,  a  man's  man,  spending 
most  of  his  leisure  in  their  society,  either  at  the  club  or 
in  out-of-door  sports,  and  he  divided  women  rigidly  into 
two  classes.  Alexina  was  his  first  love  and  his  last ;  and 
as  he  went  over  the  top  and  crumpled  up  he  thought  of 
her. 

'  *  I  wouldn  't  have  a  rotten  affair  with  you.  You  're  not 
made  for  that  sort  of  thing " 

"Well,  you're  not  going  to  have  one,  so  don't  bother 
to  buckle  on  your  armor."  She  relented  as  she  looked 
into  his  miserable  eyes,  and  took  his  hand  impulsively. 
"I'm  sorry  .  .  .  sorry.  ...  I  wish  .  .  .  you  are  worth 
it  ...  but  it's  not  on  the  map." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


novel  was  published  in  February.    Aileen 
Lawton,    Sibyl   Bascom,    Alice    Thorndyke,    Polly 
Roberts,  and  Janet  Maynard  organized  a  campaign  to 


240          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

make  it  the  fashion.  They  went  about  with  copies  under 
their  arms,  on  the  street,  in  the  shops,  at  luncheons,  even 
at  the  matinee,  and  l '  could  talk  of  nothing  else. ' '  Sibyl 
and  Janet  bought  a  dozen  copies  each  and  sent  them  to 
friends  and  acquaintances  with  the  advice  to  read  it  at 
once  unless  they  wished  to  be  hopelessly  out  of  date: 
it  was  "all  the  rage  in  New  York." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  with  the  exception  of  Aileen  and 
possibly  Janet,  the  book  almost  terrified  them  with  its 
pounding  vigor  and  grim  relentless  logic,  even  its  ro 
mantic  realism,  which  made  its  tragedy  more  poignant 
and  sinister  by  contrast;  and,  again  with  the  exception 
of  Aileen,  they  were  little  interested  in  Gora.  But  they 
were  loyally  devoted  to  Alexina  and  obeyed,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  her  request  to  help  her  make  the  book  a  suc 
cess.  They  worked  with  the  sterner  determination  as 
Alexina  in  her  own  efforts  was  obliged  to  be  extremely 
subtle. 

Besides,  it  was  rather  thrilling  not  only  to  know  a  real 
author  but  almost  to  have  her  in  the  family  as  it  were. 
Their  industrious  sowing  bore  an  abundant  harvest  and 
Gora's  novel  became  the  fashion.  Whether  people  hated 
it  or  not,  and  most  of  them  did,  they  discussed  it  con 
tinually,  and  when  a  book  meets  with  that  happy  fate 
personal  opinions  matter  little. 


Maria  thought  the  book  was  "awful"  and  forbade 
Joan  to  read  it.  Joan  thought  (to  Alexina)  that  it  was 
simply  the  most  terribly  fascinating  book  she  had  ever 
read  and  made  her  despise  society  more  than  ever  and 
more  determined  to  light  out  and  see  life  for  herself 
first  chance  she  got.  Tom  Abbott  thought  it  a  remarka 
ble  book  for  a  woman  to  have  written ;  a  man  might  have 
written  it.  Judge  Lawton  read  it  twice.  Mortimer  de 
clined  to  read  it.  He  had  not  forgiven  Gora ;  moreover, 
although  his  social  position  was  now  planetary,  it  an 
noyed  him  excessively  to  hear  his  sister  alluded  to  con 
tinually  as  an  author.  Even  the  men  at  the  club  were 
reading  the  damned  book. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          241 

ra 

Bohemia  stood  off  for  some  time.  It  was  only  recently 
they  had  learned  that  Gora  Dwight  was  a  Californian. 
They  had  read  her  stories,  but  as  she  had  been  the  sub 
ject  of  no  publicity  whatever  they  had  inferred  that, 
like  many  another,  she  had  dwelt  in  their  midst  only  long 
enough  to  acquire  material.  When  they  learned  the 
truth,  and  particularly  after  her  inescapable  novel  ap 
peared,  they  were  indignant  that  she  had  not  sought  her 
muse  at  Carmel-by-the-Sea,  or  some  other  center  of  mu 
tual  admiration ;  affiliated  herself ;  announced  herself,  at 
the  very  least.  There  was  a  very  sincere  feeling  among 
them  that  any  attempt  on  the  part  of  a  rank  outsider  to 
achieve  literary  distinction  was  impertinent  as  well  as 
unjustifiable.  ...  It  was  impossible  that  he  or  she 
could  be  the  real  thing. 

When  they  discovered  that  she  was  affiliated  more  or 
less  with  fashionable  society,  nurse  though  she  might  be, 
and  that  those  frivolous  and  negligible  beings  were  not 
only  buying  her  book  by  the  ton  but  giving  her  luncheons 
and  dinners  and  teas,  their  disgust  knew  no  bounds  and 
they  tacitly  agreed  that  she  should  be  tabu  in  the  only 
circles  where  recognition  counted. 


IV 

But  Gora,  who  barely  knew  of  their  existence,  little 
recked  that  she  had  been  weighed,  judged,  and  con 
demned.  Her  old  dream  had  come  true.  Society,  the 
society  which  should  have  been  her  birthright  and  was 
not,  had  thrown  open  its  doors  to  her  at  last  and  every 
body  was  outdoing  everybody  else  in  flattering  and  en 
tertaining  her. 

Not  that  she  was  deceived  for  a  moment  as  to  the 
nature  of  her  success  with  the  majority  of  the  people 
whose  names  twinkled  so  brightly  in  the  social  heavens. 
She  more  than  suspected  the  "plot"  but  cared  little  for 
the  original  impulse  of  the  book's  phenomenal  success  in 
San  Francisco  and  its  distinguished  faubourgs.  She  was 
square  with  her  pride,  her  youthful  bitterness  had  its 


242          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

tardy  solace,  her  family  name  was  rescued  fom  obscu 
rity.  She  knew  that  this  belated  triumph  rang  hollow, 
and  that  she  really  cared  very  little  about  it;  but  the 
strength  and  tenacity  of  her  nature  alone  would  have 
forced  her  to  quaff  every  drop  of  the  cup  so  long  with 
held.  Even  if  she  had  been  desperately  bored  she  would 
have  accepted  these  invitations  to  houses  so  long  indiffer 
ent  to  her  existence,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  she  welcomed 
the  sudden  lapse  into  frivolity  after  her  years  of  hard 
and  almost  unremitting  work.  She  had  played  little  in 
her  life ;  and  a  year  later  when  she  was  working  eighteen 
hours  a  day  without  rest,  in  conditions  that  seemed  to 
have  leapt  into  life  from  the  blackest  pages  of  history,  she 
looked  back  upon  her  one  brief  interval  of  irresponsi 
bility,  gratified  vanity,  and  bodily  indolence,  as  at  a 
bright  star  low  on  the  horizon  of  a  dark  and  terrible 
night. 


There  was  one  small  group  of  women,  Gora  soon  dis 
covered,  that  stood  for  something  besides  amusement, 
sharply  as  some  of  them  were  identified  with  all  that  was 
brilliant  in  the  social  life  of  the  city.  They  read  all 
that  was  best  in  serious  literature  and  fiction  as  soon 
after  it  came  out  as  their  treadmill  would  permit,  and 
they  gave  somewhat  more  time  to  it  than  to  poker.  It 
was  this  small  group,  led  by  Mrs.  Hunter,  that  in  com 
mon  with  several  wealthy  and  clever  Jewish  women,  with 
intellectual  members  of  old  families  that  had  long  since 
dropped  out  of  a  society  that  gave  them  too  little  to  be 
worth  the  drain  on  their  limited  n^eans,  and  with  one  or 
two  presidents  of  women's  clubs,  made  up  the  small  at 
tendance  at  the  lectures  on  literary  and  political  sub 
jects,  delivered  either  by  some  local  light,  or  European 
specialist  in  the  art  of  charming  the  higher  intelligence 
of  American  women  without  subjecting  it  to  undue 
fatigue. 

This  small  but  distinguished  band  discussed  Gora  sep 
arately  and  collectively  and  placed  the  seal  of  approval 
upon  her.  With  them  her  arrival  was  genuine  and  per 
manent. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          243 

It  was  hardly  a  step  from  their  favor  to  the  many 
women's  clubs  of  the  city,  and  she  was  invited  to  be  the 
luncheon  or  afternoon  guest  at  one  after  another  until 
all  had  entertained  the  rising  star  and  she  had  learned 
to  make  the  little  speeches  expected  of  her  without  turn 
ing  to  ice. 

VI 

The  local  intelligenzia,  those  that  assured  one  another 
how  great  were  each  and  all,  and  whose  poems  or  stories 
found. an  occasional  hospitality  in  the  eastern  magazines, 
who  toiled  over  "precious"  paragraphs  of  criticism  or 
whose  single  achievement  had  been  a  play  for  the  mid 
summer  jinks  of  the  Bohemian  Club ;  these  and  their 
associates,  the  artists  and  sculptors,  still  held  aloof,  more 
and  more  annoyed  that  Gora  Dwight  should  have  had  the 
bad  taste  to  be  discovered  by  the  Philistines,  and  should 
be  flying  across  the  high  heavens  in  spite  of  their  tabu. 

Gora  had  gradually  become  aware  of  their  existence, 
and  their  attitude,  which  both  amused  and  piqued  her. 
She  knew  now  that  if  she  had  been  one  of  them  they 
would  have  beaten  the  big  drum  and  proclaimed  to  the 
world  (of  California)  that  she  was  "great,"  "a  genius*,' ' 
the  legitimate  successor  of  Ambrose  Bierce,  whom  she  re 
motely  resembled,  and  Bret  Harte,  whom  she  did  not 
resemble  at  all.  This  they  would  have  done  if  only  to 
prove  that  California  no  longer  "knocked"  as  in  the 
mordant  nineties,  nor  waited  for  the  anile  East  to  set 
the  seal  of  its  dry  approval  before  discovering  that  a  new 
volcano  was  sending  forth  its  fiery  swords  in  their  midst. 

But  it  was  extremely  doubtful  if  society  and  upper 
club  circles  would  have  taken  any  notice  of  her.  Both 
had  acquired  the  habit,  however  unjustly,  of  regarding 
their  local  intelligenzia  (with  the  exception  of  the  few 
who  kept  themselves  wholly  apart  from  all  groups)  as 
worshipers  of  small  gods,  and  preferred  to  take  their 
cues  from  London  or  New  York.  They  plumed  them 
selves  upon  having  discovered  Gora  Dwight  and  some 
times  wandered  how  it  had  happened. 

But  Bohemia  is  hardly  a  trades  union;  it  is  indeed 
anarchistic  and  knows  no  boss.  Gora  might  not  be  in- 


244          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

vited  to  Carmel  this  many  a  day,  nor  yet  to  Berkeley, 
nor  to  sundry  other  parnassi,  but  there  was  one  club  in 
San  Francisco  whose  curiosity  got  the  better  of  it,  and 
she  was  invited  to  be  the  guest  of  the  evening  at  the 
home  of  the  Seven  Arts  Club  on  the  twentieth  of  April 
in  the  fateful  year  of  nineteen-fourteen. 


vn 

The  Seven  Arts  Club  had  been  organized  by  a  group  of 
painters,  architects,  authors,  sculptors,  musicians,  actors 
and  poets,  most  of  whom  had  long  since  found  various 
degrees  of  fame  and  moved  to  New  York,  Europe,  or  the 
romantic  wilderness. 

It  still  had  seventy  times  seven  votaries  of  the  seven 
arts  on  its  list  and  few  had  found  fame  as  yet  outside 
their  hospitable  state — where  log-rolling  is  as  amiable 
as  the  climate — but  all  save  the  elders  were  expecting  it 
and  many  made  a  fair  living.  They  met  once  a  week, 
and  a  part  of  the  evening  pleasure  of  the  literary  wing 
was  to  "  place "  authors.  They  were  willing  to  swallow 
the  British  authors  whole  (they  did  in  fact  "discover" 
one  or  two  of  them,  as  the  musical  critics  had  discovered 
such  a  rara  avis  as  Tetrazzini,  or  the  dramatic  critics 
many  a  now  famous  player) ;  but  they  were  excessively 
critical  of  all  who  owed  their  origin  to  the  United  States 
of  America,  and  particularly  of  those  who  had  loved  and 
lost  the  sovereign  state  of  California. 

Naturally  all  were  more  or  less  radical  (except  the 
cynical  and  now  somewhat  anaemic  elders  who  gave  up 
hope  for  a  world  that  had  ceased  to  hold  out  hope 
to  them).  The  artists  were  disturbed  by  futurism  and 
cubism,  although  as  neither  paid  they  were  forced  to 
devote  the  greater  part  of  their  inspiration  to  the  mar 
ketable  California  scenery. 

But  the  writers :  potential  or  locally  arrived  novelists, 
playwrights,  poets,  essayists,  were  the  real  intelligenzia ! 
They  went  about  with  the  radical  weeklies  of  the  East 
(or  Berkeley)  under  their  arms  and  discoursed  under 
their  breath  (when  foregathered  in  small  and  ardent 
groups)  upon  The  Revolution,  the  day  of  Judgment  for 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          24f 

all  but  honest  Labor,  and  hissed  their  hatred  of  Capital. 
And  if  they  had  much  in  common  with  those  "intellec 
tuals"  to  be  found  in  every  land  who  caress  the  chin  of 
radicalism  with  one  hand  and  plunge  the  other  into  the 
pocket  of  capital  as  far  as  permitted,  who  shall  blame 
them?  One  must  live  and  one  must  have  something  to 
excite  one's  intellect  when  sex,  the  stand-by,  takes  its 
well-earned  rest. 

Several  of  these  ardent  ladies  and  gentlemen,  with  the 
sanction  of  the  Club's  President,  a  business  man  whose 
contributions  were  the  financial  mainstay  of  the  Seven 
Arts,  and  who  sincerely  envied  the  gifted  members,  deny 
ing  them  nothing,  invited  James  Kirkpatrick  to  be  the 
guest  of  an  evening  and  deliver  an  address  on  Socialism 
and  the  Proletariat.  He  replied  that  he  would  come  and 
spit  on  them  if  they  liked  but  that  he  had  as  much  use 
for  parlor  socialists  as  he  had  for  damned  fools  and 
posers  of  any  sort.  Life  was  too  short.  As  for  Labor 
it  knew  how  to  take  care  of  itself  and  had  about  as  cry 
ing  a  need  of  their  "support"  as  a  healthy  human  body 
had  of  lice  and  other  parasites. 

They  were  not  discouraged  however,  merely  pronounc 
ing  him  a  "creature,"  and  were  not  at  all  flattered  or 
surprised  when  Gora  Dwight  accepted  their  invitation 
and  asked  permission  to  bring  her  friends,  Mrs.  Morti 
mer  Dwight  and  Miss  Aileen  Lawton. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

I 

wildflowers  were  on  the  green  hills:  theflame- 
colored  velvet  skinned  poppy,  the  purple  and  yel 
low  lupins,  the  pale  blue  "baby eyes,"  buttercups,  dande 
lions  and  sweetbrier,  fields  of  yellow  mustard.  The  gar 
dens  about  the  Bay  and  down  the  Peninsula  were  almost 
licentious  in  their  vehement  indulgence  in  color.  Every 
flower  that  grows  north,  south,  east,  west,  on  the  western 
hemisphere  and  the  eastern,  was  to  be  found  in  some  one 


246  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

of  these  gardens  of  Central  California;  the  poinsettia 
cheek  by  jowl  with  periwinkle  and  the  hedges  of  mar 
guerite  j  heavy-laden  trees  of  magnolia  above  beds  of 
Russian  violets.  Pomegranate  trees  and  sweet  peas, 
bridal  wreath  and  camellia,  begonia,  fuchsias,  heliotrope, 
hydrangea,  chrysanthemums,  roses,  roses,  roses.  .  .  .  Lit 
tle  orchards  of  almond  trees,  their  blossoms  a  pink  mist 
against  a  clear  blue  sky.  .  .  .  The  mariposa  lily  was 
awake  in  the  forests ;  infinitesimal  yellow  pansies  made  a 
soft  carpet  for  the  feet  of  the  deer  and  the  puma.  .  .  In 
the  old  Spanish  towns  of  the  south,  the  Castilian  roses 
were  in  bloom  and  as  sweet  and  pink  and  poignant  as 
when  Rezanov  sailed  through  the  Golden  Gate  in  the 
April  of  eighteen-six,  or  Chonita  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  the 
doomswoman,  danced  on  the  hearts  of  men  in  Monterey. 
.  .  .  From  end  to  end  of  the  great  Santa  Clara  Valley 
the  fruit  trees  were  in  bloom,  a  hundred  thousand  acres 
and  more  of  pure  white  blossoms  or  delicate  pink.  Bas- 
com  Luning  took  Alexina  over  it  one  day  in  his  air-car, 
as  she  called  it,  and  from  above  it  looked  like  a  scented 
sea  that  was  all  foam. 

But  no  such  riot  and  glory  had  come  to  San  Francisco. 
This  was  the  season  for  winds  that  seemed  to  blow  from 
the  four  points  of  the  compass  at  once  and  of  ghostly 
fogs  that  stole  up  and  down  the  streets  of  the  city,  aban 
doning  the  hills  to  bank  in  the  valleys,  as  if  seeking 
warmth ;  abruptly  deserting  the  lowlands  to  prowl  along 
the  heights,  always  searching,  searching,  these  pure  white 
lovely  fogs  of  San  Francisco,  for  something  lost  and 
never  found. 

n 

"I  hope  they're  not  too  artistic  to  keep  their  rooms 
warm, ' '  said  Aileen,  as  they  drove  from  her  house  where 
Gora  and  Alexina  had  dined,  down  to  the  Club  of  the 
Seven  Arts.  "I  have  smoked  so  much,  intending  to 
prove  in  public  how  really  virtuous  a  society  girl  is,  in 
contrast  to  Bohemia,  that  I'm  nearly  frozen." 

"Keep  your  wrap  on,"  said  Alexina.  "Who  cares? 
I  have  always  been  wild  to  get  into  real  Bohemian  cir 
cles,  meet  authors  and  artists.  We  do  lead  the  most 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  247 

provincial  life.  All  circles  should  overlap — the  best  of 
all,  anyhow.  That  is  the  way  I  would  remold  society  if 
I  were  rich  and  powerful " 

' '  Good  heavens^  Alex,  you  are  not  idealizing  this  crowd 
we  are  going  to  meet  to-night?  Thev're  just  a  lot  of 
second  and  third  raters " 

' '  "What  do  you  know  about  them  ? ' ' 

"I  keep  my  feet  on  the  ground  and  my  head  out  of 
the  clouds.  I  know  more  or  less  what  it  must  be.  Be 
sides,  the  last  time  I  was  in  New  York  I  was  taken  sev 
eral  times  to  the  restaurants  and  studios  of  Greenwich 
Village.  I  could  only  convey  my  opinion  of  it  in  many 
ewear  words.  This  must  be  a  sort  of  chromo  of  it.  ... 
Gora,  are  you  as  wildly  excited  as  Alex  is?  I  know  she 
is  because  her  spine  is  rigid ;  and  she  is  probably  colder 
than  I  am." 

"Well,  anyhow,"  said  Alexina  defiantly,  "it  will  be 
something  I  never  saw  before. ' ' 

"It  will,  darling.  Well.  Gora,  what  do  you  antici 
pate?" 

Gora  laughed.  "I  wonder?  I  don't  think  I've 
thought  much  about  it.  The  circumstances  of  my  life 
have  developed  the  habit  of  switching  off  my  imagina 
tion  except  when  I  am  at  my  desk.  I  've  also  formed  the 
habit  of  taking  things  as  they  come.  I'll  manage  to  ex 
tract  something  from  this,  one  way  or  another." 


ra 

The  car  stopped  before  a  narrow  house  in  the  rebuilt 
portion  of  the  city.  The  door  was  opened  immediately 
and  the  three  guests  of  honor,  apparently  very  late,  as 
a  large  room  beyond  the  vestibule  appeared  to  be  crowd 
ed,  were  marshaled  up  a  narrow  stair  into  a  dressing- 
room  under  the  eaves. 

"Looks  like  the  loft  of  a  barn,"  grumbled  Aileen. 
There  was  no  attendant  to  hear.  "Well,  I'm  not  going 
to  leave  my  cloak,  for  several  reasons — only  one  of  which 
is  that  if  this  room  is  a  sample  my  ill-covered  bones  will 
rattle  together  downstairs. ? ' 

She  wore  a  gown  of  black  chiffon  with  a  green  jade 


248          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

necklace  and  a  band  of  green  in  her  fashionably  done 
fair  hair.  Alexina's  gown  was  a  soft  white  satin  that 
fitted  closely  and  made  her  look  very  tall  and  slim  and 
round,  the  corsage  trimmed  with  the  only  color  she  ever 
wore.  Her  hair  was  done  in  a  classic  knot  and  held  with 
a  comb — a  present  from  Aileen — designed  from  peri 
winkles  and  green  leaves  and  sparkling  dew-drops. 

Gora  shook  out  the  skirt  of  her  only  evening-gown,  a 
well-made  black  satin,  very  severe,  but  always  relieved 
by  a  flower  of  some  sort.  To-night  she  wore  a  poinset- 
tia,  whose  peculiarly  vivid  red  brought  out  the  warm 
browns  of  her  skin  and  hair.  She  had  a  superb  neck 
and  shoulders  and  bust,  and  the  skin  of  her  body  was  a 
delicate  honey  color  that  melted  imperceptibly  into  the 
deeper  tones  of  her  throat  and  face. 

"Alexina,"  she  said,  "let  us  perish  but  exhibit  all  our 
points.  Your  arms  and  hands  were  modeled  for  some 
untraced  Greek  ancestress  and  born  again.  Your  neck 
is  almost  as  good  as  mine,  if  not  quite  so  solid.  .  .  . ' ' 

She  had  a  spot  of  crimson  on  her  high  cheek  bones 
and  admitted  to  the  discerning  Aileen  that  she  was  the 
least  bit  excited.  After  all,  the  keenest  brains  of  San 
Francisco  might  be  down  in  that  long  raftered  room 
they  had  glimpsed,  and  in  any  case  she  was  about  to  be 
judged  by  a  new  standard. 

"Oh,  don't  let  that  worry  you,"  Aileen  began. 

A  door  at  the  end  of  the  room  opened  abruptly  and  a 
small  woman  came  forward  almost  panting.  "I  just  ran 
up  those  stairs, ' '  she  cried.  ' '  But  I  was  bound  to  be  the 
first.  I  used  to  go  to  school  with  your  mother  down  on 
Bush  Street — dear  Minnie  Morrison  I" 

She  was  a  woman  of  fifty  or  sixty,  with  a  nose  like  an 
inflamed  button,  eyes  that  watered  freely,  and  a  shabby 
black  hat  somewhat  on  one  side. 

"But  my  mother  never  went  to  school  in  San  Fran 
cisco,  ' '  said  Gora  stiffly,  and  eyeing  this  first  precipitate 
member  of  the  intellectual  world  with  profound  dis 
favor. 

' '  Oh,  yes,  she  did.  We  were  the  most  intimate  friends. 
To  think  that  dear  Minnie's  daughter " 

"Her  name  was  not  Minnie  Morrison " 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          249 

"Oh,  yes,  it  was " 

"Don't  mind  her  so  much,  Gora  dear."  Aileen  did 
not  trouble  to  lower  her  voice.  ' '  She 's  drunk.  Let's  go 
down." 

Another  woman  entered  the  same  door  almost  as  hast 
ily,  but  she  was  a  stately  and  rather  handsome  woman  of 
forty,  who  gave  the  intruder  such  a  withering  look  from 
her  serene  blue  eyes  that  the  unrefined  member  of  the 
Seven  Arts  slunk  out  and  could  be  heard  stumbling 
down  the  stairs. 

"I  followed  as  soon  as  some  one  told  me  that  Miss 
Skeers  had  come  up  here, ' '  she  said  apologetically.  ' '  She 
is  not  always  herself,  poor  thing.  Once  she  was  quite 
distinguished  as  a  local  magazine  writer,  but  .  .  .  well, 
you  know  ...  all  people  do  not  have  the  good  fortune 
to  have  their  genius  universally  recognized,  and  the  re 
sults  are  sometimes  disastrous.  We  are  so  proud  to  wel 
come  you  to-night,  Miss  Dwight,  and — and — your  charm 
ing  friends.  I  am  Jane  Upton  Halsey. ' '  She  appeared 
to  think  no  further  explanation  necessary. 

"Oh,  yes,"  murmured  the  bewildered  Gora.  "It  was 
you  who  wrote  to  me." 

"Exactly.  I  am  chairman  of  the  reception  commit 
tee."  She  looked  expectant,  then  piqued,  and  added 
hastily:  "Will  you  come  downstairs?  What  lovely 
gowns.  I  should  like  to  paint  you  all. ' ' 

She  herself  was  a  symphony  in  pink  ("dago  pink," 
whispered  Aileen  wickedly),  and  she  wore  a  small  pink 
silk  turban,  apparently  made  from  the  same  bolt  as  the 
gown. 

"Perhaps  we  should  have  worn  hats,"  said  Gora  ner 
vously.  "I  didn't  know — I  thought  ..." 

"You  are  just  all  right.  Anything  goes  here.  We 
wear  what's  becoming,  what  we  can  afford,  and  what  is 
our  own  idea  of  the  right  thing.  Nobody  criticizes  any 
body  else." 

"Now,  this  is  life!"  said  Alexina  to  Aileen.  "You 
will  admit  we  never  found  anything  like  that  before. ' ' 

"Just  you  watch  and  catch  them  criticizing  us.  .  .  . 
Bather  effective— what  ?" 

They  were  descending  a  staircase  that  led  directly  into 


250          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

the  crowded  room  below,  and  they  looked  down  upon  a 
mass  of  upturned  expectant  faces.  Gora  was  ahead  with. 
Miss  Halsey,  and  as  she  reached  the  floor  the  faces 
changed  their  angle ;  it  was  apparent  that  they  were  not 
interested  in  her  satellites. 

* '  Let 's  stop  here  for  a  moment  and  watch, ' '  said  Alex- 
ina.  "It's  too  interesting.  They  look  as  if  they'd  eat 
her  alive." 

The  whole  company  seemed  to  be  seething  about  Gora, 
and  as  they  were  rapidly  presented  by  Miss  Halsey  and 
passed  on  they  produced  the  effect,  in  the  inner  circles, 
of  a  maelstrom.  On  the  outer  edge  the  women  frankly 
stood  on  chairs  to  get  a  better  look  at  the  new  lion,  or 
pushed  forward  with  frenzied  determination  to  the  fixed 
center  of  the  whirlpool,  whose  gracious  smile  was  becom 
ing  strained. 

* '  Poor  Gora ! ' '  said  Aileen.  "  We  do  it  better.  A  few 
picked  souls  at  a  time;  or,  even  when  it's  a  tea,  just 
casual  introductions  at  decent  intervals,  and  not  too 
many  references  to  the  immortal  work." 

* '  It 's  simply  great  for  Gora,  anyhow ;  for,  big  or  little, 
they're  her  own  sort.  And  they're  not  snobs.  They 
don't  care  tuppence  for  us." 

"You're  right  there.  I  went  to  a  big  reception  of  all 
the  arts  in  Paris  once  and  the  only  people  any  one  kow 
towed  to  were  two  disgustingly  rich  New  York  women 
who  had  never  done  anything.  But  no  one  can  be 
blamed  for  national  characteristics.  Heavens !  What  an 
olla  podrida!" 

Some  of  the  men  were  in  evening  dress,  but  the  greater 
number  were  not.  They  were  of  all  ages,  shaves,  neck 
ties  and  haircuts.  The  women  wore  every  variety  of  hat, 
from  an  immense  sailor  perched  above  an  immense  fat 
face,  above  an  immense  shirtwaist  bust,  to  minute  tur 
bans  and  waving  plumes.  They  wore  tailored  suits,  high 
"one  piece"  frocks  of  any  material  from  chiffon  to  serge, 
symphonic  confections  like  Miss  Halsey 's,  and  flowing 
robes  presumably  artistic.  None  wore  full  evening  dress 
except  the  guests  of  honor.  All,  however,  did  not  wear 
hats,  and  they  arranged  their  hair  as  individually  as 
Alexina. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          251 


IV 

"This  may  be  our  chance  to  see  the  art  exhibit/'  said 
Aileen.  "They'll  remember  us  in  time,  or  Gora  will. . . ." 

They  descended  into  the  room  but  had  waited  too 
long.  Miss  Halsey,  turning  the  guest  of  honor  over  to 
the  second  in  command,  a  woman  of  portentous  seri 
ousness,  made  her  way  hastily  to  the  mere  butterflies; 
who  endeavored  vainly  to  slink  away  under  cover  of  the 
rotating  crowd. 

"You  won't  think  me  rude,  I  hope/'  she  cried,  "but 
I  had  to  start  things  going,  and  it  is  awkward  for  all  to 
introduce  three  people  at  a  time. ' ' 

"You  were  most  considerate,"  said  Alexina  amiably. 
"But  we  only  came  to  witness  Gora's  triumph,  and  we 
enjoy  looking  on,  anyhow.  .  .  .  We  were  about  to  look 
at  the  pictures.  ..." 

"You  must  meet  some  of  our  more  brilliant  mem 
bers,"  said  Miss  Halsey  firmly.  "They  would  never  for 
give  me,  and  have  been  almost  as  excited  at  meeting  two 
such  distinguished  members  of  society  as  at  meeting 
Miss  Dwight  herself.  Now,  if  you  ...  if  you  .  .  .  that 
is  ..." 

"Our  names  are  Jane  Boughton  and  Mamie  Feather- 
hurst,"  supplied  Aileen,  transfixing  the  lady  with  her 
wicked  green  eyes. 

"Oh,  yes,  to  be  sure  .  .  .  there  has  been  so  much  to 
think  of  .  .  .but  your  names  are  so  often  in  the  society 
columns  ...  it  seems  to  me  I  recall  that  one  of  you  is 
the  daughter  of  a  famous  judge " 

"Boughton.  He's  under  indictment,  you  know,  for 
graft,  bribery,  and  corruption." 

"Oh  ...  ah  ...  how  unfortunate,"  Miss  Halsey 's 
jaw  fell.  Even  she  had  heard — vaguely  in  her  studio — 
of  the  scandal  of  Judge  Boughton,  and  she  wondered  how 
she  had  been  so  absent-minded  as  to  invite  a  member  of 
his  family  to  the  club. 

"You  see,"  said  Aileen  coolly.  "I  am  not  fit  to  as 
sociate  with  your  members,  and  as  Miss  Featherhurst  is 
still  my  loyal  friend,  we  '11  just  go  over  and  sit  in  a  cor 
ner " 

"Indeed  you  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind.    You  are 


252  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

our  guests,  and — please  for  this  evening  forget  every 
thing  else/7 

"You  nasty  little  beast,"  hissed  Alexina  into  Aileen 's 
discomforted  ear.  l t  She 's  worth  two  of  you. ' ' 

4 'So  she  is,"  said  Aileen  contritely.  "I'll  behave 
better." 

Miss  Halsey,  who  had  been  signaling  several  members 
and  rounding  up  others,  returned.  Alexina  blazed  her 
eyes  at  Aileen,  who  murmured  hastily  to  the  hostess: 
"I  was  just  joking.  I  am  Judge  Lawton's  daughter, 
and  this  is  Mrs.  Mortimer  D wight,  Gora's  sister-in-law. 
I  'd  never  have  told  such  a  whopper  but  I  'm  so  nervous 
and  shy.  I  didn  't  think  I  could  go  through  the  ordeal. ' ' 

' '  Oh,  you  poor  child.  Well,  you  '11  find  we  're  not  ter 
rible  in  the  least.  Now,  don't  try  to  remember  names. 
They  '11  remember  yours — better  than  I  did ! ' ' 

Another  small  eddying  circle  formed  about  the  lumi 
naries  from  a  lower  sphere.  This  proved  to  be  much  like 
similar  performances  in  any  stratum  of  society.  All 
murmured  platitudes,  or  nothing.  Nobody  tried  to  be 
original  or  witty.  Alexina  and  Aileen  gradually  disen 
gaged  themselves  and  were  making  their  way  toward  the 
pictures  that  turned  the  four  walls  into  a  harmonious 
mass  of  color,  when  an  old  man  came  tottering  up.  He 
had  bright  eyes  and  a  pleasant  face. 

' i  Which  is  Mrs.  Dwight  ? "  he  asked  eagerly.  Alexina 
bent  her  lofty  head  and  smiled  down  upon  him. 

"Of  course.  Little  Alexina.  I  remember  you  when 
you  were  a  dear  little  girl  and  I  used  to  see  you  playing 
about  the  house  when  I  went  up  to  have  a  good  pow 
wow  with  that  clever  grandfather  of  yours,  Alex  Groome 
— one  of  the  ablest  politicians  this  town  ever  had;  and 
straight,  damn  straight." 

"Alexander  Groome  was  my  father." 

"Oh,  no,  he  wasn^t.  He  was  your  grandfather.  You 
are  the  daughter  ...  let  me  see  ...  there  were  two  or 
three  young  ladies.  ...  I  remember  when  they  came  out 
in  the  eighties  .  .  .  and  a  boy  or  two.  ..." 

'  *  I  am.  sorry  to  be  rude,  but  Alexander  Groome  was  my 
father.  I  came  along  rather  late." 

"Impossible!  .  .  .  Well,  I  suppose  you  know  best 
.  "  and  he  drifted  off. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  253 

* '  This  seems  to  be  a  home  for  incurables, ' '  said  Aileen. 
"I  am  sure  I  don't  know  how  I  shall  get  through  the 
evening.  Gora  has  a  slight  sense  of  humor,  you  have 
quite  a  keen  one,  but  mine  is  positively  fiendish.  .  .  . 
Oh,  Lord!" 

Miss  Halsey  was  trailing  them,  her  hand  resting  lightly 
on  the  arm  of  another  woman. 

1  'Now  this  is  something  like,"  whispered  Aileen. 
"Witch  of  Endor  got  up  to  look  like  Carmen." 

The  oncoming  luminary  was  a  singular-looking  woman 
who  may  have  been  considerably  less  so  in  the  privacy 
of  her  dressing-room ;  she  had  evidently  expended  much 
thought  upon  supplementing  the  niggardliness  of  Nature. 
Her  unwashed-looking  black  hair  was  dressed  very  high 
and  stuck  with  immense  pins.  Large,  circular,  highly 
colored,  imitation  jade  rings  dangled  in  tiers  from  her 
ear-lobes,  and  at  least  eight  rows  of  colored  beads  cov 
ered  the  front  of  her  loose,  fringed,  embroidered,  beaded 
gown.  She  had  a  haggard  face,  deeply  lined  and  badly 
painted,  but  something,  an  emanation  perhaps,  seemed 
to  proclaim  that  she  was  still  young. 

"This,  dear  Mrs.  Dwight  and  Miss  Lawton,  is  Alma 
De  Quineey  Smith,  with  whose  work  you  are  of  course 
familiar.  She  had  her  reception  last  we«k  but  was  only 
too  glad  to  come  to-night  and  extend  the  welcoming  hand 
of  the  east  to  our  new  daughter  of  the  west." 

Miss  De  Quincey  Smith  barely  gave  her  time  to  finish. 
She  darted  forward  and  grasped  Aileen 's  hand.  "Oh, 
you  must  let  me  tell  you  how  wonderful  I  think  your 
unique  green  eyes  go  with  that  jade.  I've  been  watch 
ing  you!"  She  spoke  with  the  eager  unthinking  im 
pulsiveness  of  a  child,  which,  oddly,  made  her  look  like 
a  very  old  woman. 

"Too  nice  of  you,"  murmured  Aileen,  who  was  de 
termined  to  behave. 

' '  And  you  ! ' '  she  cried,  turning  to  Alexina.  '  *  Your 
eyes  simply  blaze.  You  look  like  a  long  white  arum  lily. 
And  dusky  hair,  not  merely  black.  Oh,  I  do  think  you 
are  both  too  wonderful,  and  I  am  sure  all  these  splendid 
artists  here  will  want  to  paint  you." 

Alexina  and  Aileen  were  not  accustomed  to  such  spon 
taneous  and  unbridled  admiration  and  they  thought  Miss 


254  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

Smith  quite  fascinating  if  rather  queer.    But  Miss  Smith 
did  not  number  tact  among  her  gifts  and  rushed  on. 

"Gora  Dwight  is  too  wonderful  looking  for  words. 
We  are  all  crazy  over  her.  All  the  artists  want  to  paint 
her  already.  Her  coloring  and  style  are  unique  and  she 
suggests  tragedy — with  those  marvelous  pale  eyes  in  that 
dark  face — those  heavy  dark  brows  and  heavy  masses  of 
hair.  I  have  suggested  that  Folkes — your  greatest  por 
trait  painter,  you  know, — paint  her  as  Medea,  or  as  the 
Genius  of  the  Revolution.  How  proud  you  must  be  of 
her!" 

"So  we  are,"  murmured  Aileen.  "We  think  she  is 
the  only  woman  writer  in  America  worth  mentioning. 
Why  don't  you  paint  her  yourself? ' ' 

"I?  I  am  not  an  artist — with  the  brush!  I  am  an 
author,  Alma  De  Quincey  Smith." 

"Oh!  .  .  ."  Aileen  'a  voice  trailed  off  vaguely. 
"What  do  you  write?  Plays?  Essays? 

"I — why,  I'm  one  of  the  best — my  stories  appear  con 
stantly  in  the  best  magazines."  Miss  Smith,  who  had 
been  deserted  some  time  since  by  Miss  Halsey,  looked 
abject,  helpless,  and  infuriated. 

"  Oh !  We  only  read  the  worst.  It  must  be  wonder 
ful  to  be  famous.  Come,  Alex,  we  must  see  the  pictures. 
They're  going  to  have  music  and  supper  later." 


"Nevertheless,"  said  Alexina,  "they  are  real  as  far 
as  they  go,  and  they  really  do  things,  good  or  bad.  They 
work,  they  aspire ;  they  dream,  and  perhaps  with  reason, 
of  a  glorious  future,  when  they  will  be  as  famous  and 
successful  as  the  founders  of  the  club.  Even  if  they 
fail  they  will  have  had  the  wonderful  dream.  Nothing 
can  take  that  from  them.  I  envy  them — envy  them ! ' ' 

They  were  standing  in  a  far  corner  of  the  room,  after 
having  examined  three  or  four  admirable  and  many 
passable  paintings.  Aileen  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 
They  had  both  been  remarking  upon  the  comic  aspects 
of  the  intellectual  life,  and  Alexina 's  outburst  was  un 
expected.  Aileen  had  seldom  seen  her  vehement  since 
they  had  outgrown  their  youthful  habit  of  wrangling. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  255 

She  was  still  more  astonished  when  she  turned  from  a 
view  of  the  Latin-seeming  roofs  of  San  Francisco  from 
Twin  Peaks,  to  Alexina's  face.  It  looked  drawn  and 
desperate. 

''Well,  most  of  them  will  fail/'  she  said  lightly.  "Look 
at  these  pictures !  That  is  what  is  the  matter  with  Cali 
fornia — too  much  talent.  You  must  be  as  individual  as 
a  talking  monkey  to  get  your  head  above  the  crowd.  All 
these  poor  devils  are  doomed  to  the  local  reputation." 

' '  Even  so  they  have  something  to  live  for,  mean  some 
thing,  do  something.  What  do  I  mean  to  myself  or  any 
one  ?  What  have  I  accomplished  ?  The  man  I  married 
is  a  dummy-husband ;  means  nothing  to  me  nor  I  to  him. 
I  have  no  children.  Even  my  housekeeping  for  Maria  is 
a  farce;  James  really  does  it  all.  I  mean  nothing  to 
society  now  that  I  can  no  longer  entertain  it.  I  haven't 
even  a  decent  vice.  I  don 't  smoke  and  gamble  like  you, 
nor  have  lovers  like  some  of  the  others.  I'm  simply  a 
nonentity — nothing ! ' ' 

"You  have  personality  .  .  .  beauty.  .  .  .  '  Aileen 
was  completely  at  a  loss.  "I  hate  being  banal  like  that 
Smith  idiot  .  .  .  but  you  are  the  perfection  of  a  type. 
That  is  something.  And  you  cultivate  your  mind " 

1 1  My  mind !  What  does  it  amount  to  ?  Anybody  can 
pack  a  brain.,  I  'd  like  one  of  those  that  gives  out  some 
thing,  however  little.  But  I  can't  help  that.  The  point 
is  I  don't  live.  I  don't  care  a  hang  about  personality 
that  doesn't  get  anywhere,  and  I  care  still  less  about 
being  a  finished  type — that 's  the  work  of  dead  and  gone 
ancestors,  anyhow,  not  mine.  ...  I  wish  I  could  fall  in 
love  with  James  Kirkpatrick.  I'd  feel  more  justified  in 
my  own  eyes  if  I  were  living  with  him  over  in  the  Mis 
sion " 

"His  old  mother  would  chase  you  out  with  a  broom 
and  use  Biblical  language.  Of  course  I  know  you  must 
be  bored,  Alex  dear.  Can't  you  manage  to  go  abroad 
and  live  for  a  time  ? ' ' 

"No,  I  can't,  and  I  don't  see  what  difference  that 
would  make.  But  1 11  tell  you  what  I  shall  do.  If  Tom 
and  Maria  want  to  rent  the  house  next  year  they  can 
have  it  but  I  '11  not  live  there.  1 11  not  be  '  held  up '  any 
longer.  Ill  stand  on  my  own  feet — in  other  words  get 


256          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

a  job.  No — I've  some  loose  money.  I'll  start  in  busi 
ness." 

"Good  for  you.  Perhaps  dad '11  let  me  go  in  with  you. 
Don't  imagine  I  don't  get  sick  of  my  racketing  life;  and 
when  I  have  a  spasm  of  reform  I  nearly  take  seriously 
to  drink,  I'm  so  bored.  Would  you  have  me  for  part 
ner?" 

"Wouldn't  I?  That  is  if  you  would  be  serious  about 
it.  I  am,  let  me  tell  you.  The  whole  family  can  per 
form  suttee  for  all  I  care.  I'm  going  to  do  something 
that  will  give  me  a  place  in  the  main  stream  of  life." 

"Trust  me.  I  have  been  considering  Bob's  fifteenth 
proposal — Mr.  Cheever  has  promised  him  a  full  partner 
ship  the  day  he  marries,  and  it  wouldn't  be  so  bad. 
Bobby  is  a  good  sport,  and  we'd  live  the  out-door  life 
at  Burlingame  instead  of  the  in — sports  .  .  .  tourna 
ments  .  .  .  polo  .  .  .  cut  out  dissipation.  We've  both 
really  had  enough  of  it.  But  I  believe  business  would 
be  more  interesting.  After  all  that's  what  you  marry 
for  unless  you  want  children — which  I  don't— -to  be  in 
terested.  What  '11  we  be  t  Decorators  ? ' ' 

"I  suppose  so.  But  all  this  has  only  just  come  to  a 
head,  although  I  know  now  that  it  has  been  slowly  gath 
ering  force  in  my  deepest  deeps.  If  we  do  I  '11  take  Alice 
on.  She's  sick  of  the  game  too  and  she  has  simply  rip 
ping  ideas. ' ' 

"Perfect.  <D  wight,  Thorn ',  no,  'Thorndyke, 

Lawton  and  Dwight.'  I'm  too  excited — convicts  must 
feel  like  that  when  they  tunnel  a  hole  and  get  out.  It 
will  be  our  real,  our  first  adventure." 


CHAPTER  XX 


"OUT  two  weeks  later  Aileen  told  Alexina  that  al- 
•*-*  though  she  had  cannily  waited  for  what  she  be 
lieved  to  be  the  propitious  moment  and  told  her  father 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          257 


about  the  great  scheme,  she  had  never  seen  him  so  upset. 
She  stormed,  argued,  wept,  but  he  was  adamant.  He 
would  give  her  neither  a  cent  nor  his  permission.  When 
she  accused  him  of  inconsistency  (he  had  supported 
woman's  suffrage)  he  replied  that  women  forced  to  work 
needed  the  franchise  and  no  fair-minded  man  would 
withhold  it ;  and  if  for  no  other  reason  he  would  forbid 
his  daughter  to  go  out  and  compete  with  women  who 
must  work  whether  they  wanted  to  or  not. 

But  that  was  only  one  point. 

What  did  progress  mean  if  women  deliberately 
dropped  from  a  higher  plane  to  a  lower?  What  had 
their  ancestors  worked  for,  possibly  died  for?  It  was 
their  manifest  duty  to  their  class,  to  their  family,  to  go 
up  not  down. 

Moreover,  when  women  had  men  to  support  them  and 
insisted  upon  forcing  their  way  into  the  business  world, 
they  made  men  ridiculous  and  undermined  society.  It 
was  dangerous,  damned  dangerous.  If  he  had  his  way 
not  a  woman  in  any  class,  outside  of  nursing  and  do 
mestic  service,  should  work.  He'd  tax  every  male  in  the 
land,  according  to  his  income  or  wage,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  rich  women,  and  keep  every  last  one  of  the  unpor- 
tioned  in  idleness  rather  than  risk  the  downfall  of  male 
supremacy  in  the  world* 

He  hated  every  form  of  publicity  for  the  women  of 
his  class.  If  he  had  his  way  their  names,  much  less 
photographs,  should  never  appear  in  the  public  press. 
Society  should  be  sacrosanct.  Its  traditions  should  be 
handed  on,  not  lowered.  .  .  .  Charity  boards  and  settle 
ment  work,  perhaps,  but  no  further  exposure  to  the  vul 
gar  gaze  ...  he  was  glad  she  had  never  gone  in  for  the 
last. 

Civilization  would  be  meaningless  without  that  small 
class  at  the  top  that  proved  what  Earth  could  accom 
plish  in  the  way  of  breeding,  the  refinements  of  life, 
the  beauty  of  distinction,  in  making  an  art  of  leisure,  of 
pleasure — quite  as  much  an  art  as  writing  books  or  paint 
ing  pictures. 

If  the  men  in  the  younger  nations  had  to  work,  at  least 
they  were  able  to  prove  to  the  older  that  the  exquisite 


258          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

creatures  they  bred  and  protected  were  second  to  none 
on  this  planet,  at  least. 

If  women  had  genius  that  was  another  question.  Let 
them  give  it  to  the  world,  by  all  means.  That  was  their 
personal  gift  to  civilization.  .  .  .  He  was  not  bigoted 
like  some  men,  even  young  men,  who  thought  it  a  dis 
grace  for  a  lady  publicly  to  transfer  herself  to  the  ar 
tistic  plane  and  compete  with  men  for  laurels.  .  .  .  But 
when  it  came  to  stripping  off  the  delicate  badges  that 
only  the  higher  civilization  could  confer,  and  struggling 
tooth  and  nail  with  the  mob  for  no  reason  whatever — it 
was  disloyal,  ungrateful  and  monstrous. 

He  was  no,  snob.  He  thought  himself  better  than  no 
man.  (Different,  yes.)  But  in  regard  to  women,  the 
women  of  his  class,  the  class  of  his  father  before  him, 
and  of  his  father's  father,  he  had  his  ideals,  his  convic 
tions. 

That  was  all. 

n 

"In  short,  he's  modern  but  not  too  modern.  My 
twentieth-century  arguments  were  brushed  aside  as  mere 
fads.  And  yet  there's  probably  not  an  important  case 
tried  in  any  court  in  either  hemisphere  that  he  doesn't 
read — learn  something  from  if  he  can.  He  takes  in  the 
leading  newspapers  and  reviews  of  America  and  Europe 
and  even  reads  the  best  modern  novels  as  carefully  as  he 
ever  read  Thackeray  and  Dickens — says  they  are  the 
real  social  chronicles.  He's  a  profound  student  of  his 
tory,  and  the  history  of  the  present  interests  him  just  as 
much — he  has  those  Balkans  under  a  microscope;  and 
collects  all  the  data  on  every  important  strike  here  and 
elsewhere.  And  yet  where  women  are  concerned  he  is  a 
fossil.  An  American  fossil — worst  sort.  Some  of  the 
young  ones  are  just  as  bad  ...  I'll  have  to  give  in. 
I  can 't  break  his  heart.  I  suppose  1 11  marry  Bobby. ' ' 

ni 

Alice  Thorndyke  also  shook  her  head.  "I'd  like  to, 
Alex,  but  frankly  I  haven't  the  courage.  Your  friends 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  259 

all  stick  to  you  like  perfect  dears  when  you  step  down 
and  out  and  set  up  shop,  and  are  so  kind  you  feel  like  a 
street  walker  in  a  house  of  refuge.  But  secretly  they 
hate  it  and  they  don't  feel  toward  you  in  the  same  way 
at  all.  They  may  not  know  enough  to  express  it,  but 
what  they  really  feel  is  that  you  have  threatened  the 
solidity  of  the  order  and  lowered  yourself  as  well  as 
them.  One  day  they  may  have  more  sense  but  not  in  our 
time,  I  am  afraid." 

Nevertheless,  Alexina  persisted  in  her  determination. 
One  could  succeed  alone.  She  would  not  be  the  first. 
She  was  by  no  means  sure,  however,  what  shs  wanted  to 
do,  and  made  up  her  mind  to  take  no  step  before  the  fol 
lowing  winter.  When  the  Abbotts  returned  to  Rincona 
in  May  they  took  James  with  them.  Alexina  closed  Bal- 
linger  House,  although  Mortimer  slept  there  and  a  Fili 
pino  came  in  every  morning  to  make  his  breakfast  and 
bed;  and  took  a  cottage  in  Ross  with  Janet  Maynard 
whose  mother  had  gone  south  to  visit  old  lady  Bascom, 
and  who  craved  the  wild  peace  of  Marin  County  after 
too  much  San  Francisco  and  Burlingame. 

Marin,  with  its  magnificent  redwood  forests  on  the 
coast,  fed  by  the  fogs  of  the  Pacific,  its  ancient  sunlit 
woods  of  oak  and  madrono  and  manzanita,  its  mountains 
and  rocky  hills  and  peaceful  fertile  valleys,  is  perhaps 
the  most  beautiful  county  in  California,  and  its  towns 
and  villages  are  still  almost  primitive  in  spite  of  the 
many  fashionable  residents  whose  homes  are  close  to  or 
in  them.  The  ocean  pounds  its  western  base,  Mount 
Tamalpais  is  its  proudest  possession,  it  has  a  haunted 
looking  lake ;  and  a  part  of  it  embraces  one  of  the  many 
ramifications  of  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  and  commands 
a  superb  view  of  city  and  island  and  mountain.  But  it 
has  a  heavy  brooding  peace  that  seems  to  relax  the  social 
conscience.  Entertaining  is  intermittent,  and  its  inhab 
itants  return  to  their  winter  in  San  Francisco  deeply 
refreshed.  It  has  its  paradoxes  like  the  rest  of  Cali 
fornia.  On  a  stark  little  peninsula,  jutting  out  from  bare 
hills  into  the  Bay,  is  San  Quentin,  one  of  the  State's 
Prisons,  and  along  the  edges  of  the  marsh  are  Chinese 
hamlets  and  shrimp  fisheries. 


260          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

17 

Alexina  and  Janet  purposed  to  spend  the  summer 
reading,  idling  in  the  sweet-scented  garden,  walking  in 
the  early  morning,  riding  horseback  in  the  late  after 
noon,  taking  tea  at  the  club  house  at  San  Rafael,  or  Bel 
vedere,  perhaps,  but  "cutting  out"  all  social  dissipa 
tions.  Janet  was  now  twenty-six  and  beginning  to  feel 
the  strain  as  well  as  seriously  to  consider  what  she 
should  do  with  the  rest  of  her  life.  She  had  great 
wealth,  she  was  blasee  as  a  result  of  doing  everything 
she  chose  to  do,  in  public  or  in  private,  and  she  was 
nearly  two  generations  younger  than  Judge  Lawton. 
Nevertheless,  she  perceived  no  allurement  in  the  busi 
ness  world,  and  the  only  alternative  seemed  marriage. 
Not  in  California,  however.  No  surprises  there.  She 
might  take  her  fortune  to  London  and  become  a  peeress 
of  the  realm.  "When  change  became  imperative  better 
go  up  than  down. 

Alexina  had  never  felt  the  attractions  of  dissipation 
and  was  not  afflicted  with  moral  ennui;  but  she  was 
tired  from  much  thinking  and  brooding  and  intimate 
personal  contacts.  She  wanted  the  deep  refreshment  of 
the  summer  before  girding  up  for  the  winter — before 
making  her  plunge  into  the  world  of  business  and  toil. 

But  she  was  soon  to  discover  that  she  had  girded  up 
her  loins,  or  at  all  events  brightened  up  her  corpuscles 
and  reposed  her  brain  cells,  for  a  far  different  purpose. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

i 

IT  is  possible  that  only  two  people  in  California,  bar- 
*  ring  German  spies,  leapt  instantly  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  Sarajevo  bomb  meant  a  European  War.  The 
Judge,  because  he  had  the  historical  background  and 
knew  his  modern  Europe  as  he  knew  his  chessboard ;  and 
Alexina  because  she  recalled  conversations  she  had  had 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  261 

in  France  the  summer  before  with  people  close  to  the 
Government,  to  say  nothing  of  mysterious  allusions  in 
the  letters  of  Olive  de  Morsigny ;  who  may  have  thought 
it  wise  not  to  trust  all  she  knew  to  the  post,  or  may 
have  been  too  busy  with  her  intensive  nursing  course  to 
enter  into  particulars. 

Janet  shrugged  her  large  statuesque  shoulders  when 
Alexina  communicated  her  fears.  What  was  war  to 
her  ?  England  at  least  would  have  sense  enough  to  keep 
out  of  it.  Aileen  came  over  after  a  convincing  talk  with 
her  father  looking  as  worried  as  if  some  nation  or  other 
were  training  its  guns  on  the  Golden  Gate. 

"Dad  says  it's  the  world  war  .  .  .  that  we'll  be 
dragged  in  ...  that  Germany  has  had  it  up  her  sleeve 
for  years  .  .  .  believes  that  bomb  was  made  in  Berlin 
.  .  .  nothing  under  heaven  could  have  averted  this  im 
pending  war  but  a  huge  standing  army  in  Great  Britain 
.  .  .  hasn't  Lord  Koberts  been  crying  out  for  it?  .  .  . 
Dad  and  I  dined  at  his  house  one  night  in  London  and 
the  only  picture  in  the  dining-room  was  an  oil  painting 
of  the  Kaiser  in  a  red  uniform,  done  expressly  for  Lord 
Roberts  .  .  .  funny  world  .  .  .  and  now  Britain's  got 
a  civil  war  on  her  hands  and  mutinous  officers  who  won 't 
go  over  and  shoot  men  of  their  own  class  in  Ulster.  .  .  . 
Russia  hasn  't  built  her  strategic  railways — all  the  money 
used  up  in  graft.  .  .  .  Oh,  Lord !  Oh,  Lord !  who  'd  have 
thought  it?  ...  Twentieth  century  and  all  the  rest  of 
it." 

"Twentieth  century  .  .  .  war  .  .  .  how  utterly  ab 
surd.  ...  I  don't  wish  to  be  rude  .  .  .  but  really  ..." 

This  from  every  one  to  whom  Alexina  and  Atteen,  or 
even  Judge  Lawton,  communicated  their  fears. 


n 

One  day  Alexina  and  Aileen  met  in  San  Francisco  by 
appointment  and  telephoned  to  James  Kirkpatrick,  ask 
ing  him  to  lunch  with  them  at  the  California  Market. 
He  accepted  with  alacrity,  and  laughed  genially  at  their 
apprehensions.  War?  War?  Not  on  your  life. 
There'll  never  be  another  war.  Socialists  won't  permit 


262  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

it.  The  kaiser?  To  hell  with  the  kaiser.  (Excuse  me.) 
He,  James  Kirkpatrick,  was  in  frequent  correspondence 
with  certain  German  socialists.  They  would  declare 
themselves  in  the  coming  International  Congress  for  the 
general  strike  if  any  sovereign — or  President — dared  to 
try  to  put  over  a  war  on  the  millions  of  determined  so 
cialists,  syndicalists,  internationalists,  and  communists  in 
Great  Britain  and  Europe;  he'd  get  the  surprise  of  his 
life.  Socialism  was  determined  there  should  never  be 
another  war — the  burden  and  life-toll  of  which  was  al 
ways  borne  by  the  poor  man.  He  didn't  believe  any  of 
those  fool  sovereigns,  not  even  the  crazy  kaiser,  would 
attempt  it,  knowing  what  they  did;  but  if  they  turned 
out  to  be  deaf  and  blind,  well,  just  watch  out  for  the 
Great  Strike.  That  would  be  the  most  portentous,  the 
most  awe-inspiring  event  in  history. 

And  then  he  dismissed  a  prospective  European  war  as 
unworthy  of  further  attention  and  held  forth  with  ex 
treme  acrimony  on  the  subject  of  the  Great  Colorado 
Strike ;  which  rose  to  passionate  denunciation  of  the  mis 
erable  make-shift  called  civilization  which  would  permit 
such  a  horror  in  the  very  heart  of  a  great  and  prosperous 
nation.  But  with  the  new  system  .  .  .  the  new  system 
.  .  .  there  would  not  be  even  these  abominable  little  civil 
wars  .  .  .  for  that  was  what  we  had  right  here  in  our 
own  country  ...  no  need  to  use  up  your  gray  matter 
bothering  about  European  states.  .  .  . 

He  was  so  convincing  that  Alexina  and  Aileen  thanked 
him  warmly  and  went  to  their  respective  destinations 
lulled  and  comforted. 

Nevertheless,  the  war  made  its  grand  debut  on  August 
first,  and  Mr.  Kirkpatrick,  who  had  started  on  one  of  the 
passenger  ships  leaving  New  York  for  the  International 
Socialist  Congress,  climbed  igriominiously  over  the  side 
and  returned  to  the  great  ironic  city  on  a  tug. 


m 


Two  letters  came  from  Olive  to  Alexina  and  one  to 
each  of  her  other  old  friends,  imploring  them  to  come 
over  and  help.  They  could  nurse.  They  could  run  can- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  263 

teens.  Oeuvres.  She  wanted  to  show  France  what  her 
friends,  her  countrywomen,  could  do. 

But  the  war  would  be  over  in  three  months.  .  .  .  Only 
Judge  Lawton  believed  it  would  be  a  long  war.  Others 
hardly  comprehended  there  was  a  war  at  all.  .  .  .  Such 
things  don't  happen  in  these  days.  (Who  in  that  won 
drous  smiling  land  could  think  upon  war  anywhere?) 
...  It  would  be  too  funny  if  it  were  not  for  those 
dreadful  pictures  of  the  Belgian  refugees.  .  .  .  Poor 
things.  .  .  .  Maria  and  other  good  women  immediately 
began  knitting  for  them  .  .  .  sat  for  hours  on  the  veran 
dahs,  all  in  white,  knitting,  knitting  .  .  .  but  talking  of 
anything  of  war.  ...  It  simply  was  a  horrid  dream  and 
soon  would  be  over.  .  .  .  Their  husbands  all  said  so  ... 
three  months.  .  .  .  German  army  irresistible  .  .  .  mod 
ern  implements  of  war  must  annihilate  whole  armies  very 
quickly,  and  the  Germans  had  the  most  and  the  best. 
.  .  .  Kotten  shame  (said  Burlingame)  and  the  Germans 
not  even  good  sportsmen. 

James  Kirkpatrick,  who  avoided  his  former  pupils, 
consoled  himself  with  the  thought  that  at  least  Britain 
would  be  licked  .  .  .  she'd  get  what  was  coming  to  her, 
all  right,  and  Ireland  would  be  free.  .  .  .  Anyhow  it 
would  soon  be  over.  .  .  .  "When  April  nineteen-seven- 
teen  came  he  damned  the  socialist  party  for  its  attitude 
and  enlisted:  "I  was  a  man  and  an  American  first, 
wasn  't  I  ? "  he  wrote  to  Alexina.  ' '  I  guess  your  flag  .  .  . 
oh,  hell!  (Excuse  me.V 


IV 

In  December,  nineteen-fourteen,  Alexina  and  Alice 
Thorndyke  (who  grasped  the  entering  wedge  with  both 
ruthless  white  little  hands)  went  to  France.  Aileen  was 
not  strong  enough  to  nurse  so  she  bade  a  passionate 
good-by  to  her  friends  and  engaged  herself  to  Bob 
Cheever.  Jimmie  Thome  went  to  France  as  an  ambu 
lance  driver,  and  Bascom  Luning  to  join  the  Lafayette 
Escadrille.  Gora  sailed  six  months  later  to  offer  her 
services  to  England.  In  the  case  of  a  nurse  there  was 
much  red  tape  to  unravel. 


264  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

A  fair  proportion  of  the  women  left  behind  continued 
to  knit.  As  time  went  on  branches  of  certain  French 
war-relief  organizations  were  formed,  and  run  by  such 
capable  women  as  Mrs.  Thornton  and  Mrs.  Hunter,  who 
had  many  friends  among  the  American  women  living  in 
France ;  now  toiling  day  and  night  at  their  oeuvres. 

Alexina  and  Olive  de  Morsigny,  after  a  year  of  nurs 
ing,  when  what  little  flesh  they  had  left  could  stand  no 
more,  founded  an  oeuvre  of  their  own,  and  Sibyl  Bascom 
and  Aileen  Cheever  did  fairly  well  with  a  branch  in  San 
Francisco,  Alexina 's  relatives  quite  wonderfully  in  New 
York  and  Boston ;  although  they  were  already  interested 
in  many  others. 


Certain  interests  in  California,  notably  the  orchards 
and  canneries,  were  violently  anti-British  during  the 
first  years  of  the  war,  as  the  blockade  shut  off  their  im 
mense  exports  to  Germany,  and  those  that  failed,  or 
closed  temporarily,  realized  the  incredible :  that  a  war  in 
Europe  could  affect  California,  even  as  the  Civil  War 
affected  the  textile  factories  of  England.  To  them  it 
was  a  matter  of  indifference,  until  nineteen-seventeen, 
who  won  the  war  so  long  as  one  side  smashed  the  other 
and  was  quick  about  it. 

Owners  and  directors  of  copper  mines — but  let  us  draw 
a  veil  over  the  sincere  robust  instincts  of  human  na 
ture. 

The  Club  of  Seven  Arts  was  proudly  and  vociferously 
pro-German.  Not  that  they  cared  a  ha'penny  damn 
really  for  Germany,  but  it  was  a  far  more  original  atti 
tude  than  all  this  sobbing  over  France  .  .  .  and  then 
there  was  Keinhardt,  the  Secessionist  School,  the  adora 
ble  jugendstyl.  And  the  atrocity  stories  were  all  lies 
anyway.  The  bourgeois  president  resigned,  but  no  one 
else  paid  any  attention  to  them. 

In  nineteen-seventeen  a  few  declared  themselves  paci 
fists  and  conscientious  objectors,  and,  little  recking  what 
they  were  in  for,  marched  off  triumphantly  to  a  military 
prison,  feeling  like  Christ  and  longing  for  a  public  cross. 

The  others,  those  that  were  young  enough,  shouldered 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          265 

a  gun  and  went  to  the  front  with  high  hearts  and  har 
dened  muscles.  Democracy  iiber  alles.  The  women  en 
listed  in  the  Red  Cross  and  the  Y.  W.  C.  A.,  and  worked 
with  grim  enthusiasm  either  at  home  or  in  France. 


VI 

By  this  time  California,  almost  on  another  planet  as 
she  was,  with  her  abundance  unchecked,  and  her  skies 
smiling  for  at  least  three-fourths  of  the  year,  admitted 
there  was  a  real  war  in  the  world,  as  bad  (or  worse) 
as  any  you  could  read  about  in  history.  The  war  films 
in  the  motion  picture  houses  were  quite  wonderful,  but 
too  terrible. 

They  also  discussed  it,  especially  on  those  days  when 
the  streets  echoed  with  the  march  of  departing  regiments 
in  khaki,  or  one's  own  son,  or  one's  friend's  son  en 
listed  or  was  drafted,  or  it  was  their  day  at  Red  Cross 
headquarters. 

All  the  older  women  were  at  work  now,  and  all  but  the 
most  irreclaimably  frivolous  of  the  young  ones.  Even 
Tom  and  Maria  Abbott  made  no  protest  against  Joan's 
joining  the  Woman's  Motor  Corps;  and,  dressed  in  a 
smart,  gray,  boyish  uniform,  she  drove  her  car  at  all 
hours  of  the  day  and  night.  She  was  not  only  sincerely 
anxious  to  serve,  but  she  knew,  and  sheltered  girls  all 
over  the  land  knew, — to  say  nothing  of  the  younger  mar 
ried  women — that  this  was  the  beginning  of  their  real 
independence,  the  knell  of  the  old  order.  They  were 
freed.  Even  the  reenforced  concrete  minds  of  the  last 
generation  imperceptibly  crumbled  and  were  as  imper 
ceptibly  modernized  in  the  rebuilding. 

A  good  many  of  the  women,  old  and  young,  continued 
to  gamble  furiously  out  of  their  hours  of  work ;  but  the 
majority  of  the  girls  did  not.  Those  with  naturally  se 
rious  minds  were  absorbed,  uplifted,  keen,  calculating. 
They  did  not  even  dance.  They  realized  that  they  had 
wonderful  futures  in  a  changing  world.  It  was  "up  to 
them." 


266  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

vn 

Mortimer  was  beyond  the  draft  age,  but,  possibly  ow 
ing  to  his  gallant  fearless  appearance,  it  was  rather 
expected  that  he  would  enlist.  He  did  not,  however, 
nor  did  he  join  the  Ked  Cross  or  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  nor 
volunteer  for  some  Government  work,  as  so  many  of  the 
men  of  his  age  and  class  were  doing  as  a  matter  of 
course. 

War  news  bored  him  excessively.  He  was  making  two 
or  three  hundred  dollars  a  month;  he  lived  at  the  Club 
when  Maria  Abbott  occupied  Ballinger  House — Tom 
went  to  Washington — and  he  was  extremely  comfortable. 
In  the  Club  he  always  felt  like  a  blood,  forgot  for  the 
time  being  that  he  was  not  a  rich  man,  like  the  majority 
of  its  members,  and  there  was  always  a  group  of  nice 
quiet  contented  fellows,  glad  to  play  bridge  with  him 
in  the  evening.  On  the  whole,  he  congratulated  him 
self,  he  had  not  done  so  badly,  although  he  had  resigned 
all  hope  of  being  a  millionaire — unless  he  made  a  lucky 
strike.  .  .  .  But  it  did  not  make  so  much  difference  in 
California  .  .  .  and  when  Alexina  had  had  enough  of 
horrors  they  would  settle  down  again  very  comfortably 
to  the  old  life.  .  .  .  There  was  very  good  dancing  at  the 
restaurants  (upstairs)  where  one  met  nice  girls  of  sorts 
who  didn't  care  a  hang  about  this  infernal  war  .  .  . 
one  of  them  .  .  .  but  he  was  extremely  careful  ...  he 
would  never  be  divorced;  that  was  positive  ...  as  for 
society  he  did  not  miss  it  particularly  .  .  .  the  dancing 
at  the  restaurants  was  better  and  he  didn't  have  to  talk 
.  .  .  whether  people  stopped  asking  him  or  not,  now  that 
his  wife  was  away,  or  whether  they  entertained  or  not, 
didn't  so  much  matter.  He  had  the  Club.  That  was  the 
all  important  pivot  of  his  life,  his  altar,  his  fetish  .  .  . 
a  lot  he  cared  what  went  so  long  as  he  had  that. 


BOOK  IV 


CHAPTER  I 


THHE  Embassy  was  a  blinding  glare  of  light  from  the 
A  ground  floor  to  the  upper  story,  visible  above  the 
wide  staircase.  After  four  years  of  legal  tenebration  it 
was  obvious  that  the  ambassador's  intention  was  to  cele 
brate  the  Armistice  as  well  as  the  visit  of  his  King  to 
Paris  with  an  almost  impish  demonstration  of  the  recap 
tured  right  to  extravagance,  obliterate  the  dry  economi 
cal  past.  The  ambassador 's  country  might  be  intolerably 
poor  after  the  war,  but  like  many  other  prudent  nobles 
he  had  invested  money  in  North  and  South  America,  and 
was  able  to  entertain  his  sovereign  out  of  his  private 
purse.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  give  the  first  bril 
liant  function  following  the  sudden  end  of  La  Grande 
Guerre  and  one  that  it  would  be  difficult  for  even  Paris 
to  eclipse. 

All  Paris  had  burst  forth  into  illumination  of  street 
and  shop  after  nightfall,  but  Alexina  had  seen  no  such 
concentrated  blaze  as  this ;  and  her  eyes,  long  accustomed 
to  a  solitary  globe  high  in  the  ceiling  of  her  room, 
blinked  a  little,  strong  as  they  were.  She  had  come  with 
the  Marquis  and  Marquise  de  Morsigny,  and  after  they 
had  passed  the  long  receiving  line  where  the  King  in  his 
simple  worn  uniform  stood  beside  the  resplendent  am 
bassador,  her  friends'  attention  had  been  diverted  to  a 
group  of  acquaintances  chattering  excitedly  over  the 
startling  munificence  that  seemed  to  them  prophetic  of  a 
swift  renaissance. 

They  moved  off  unconsciously,  and  Alexina  remained 
alone  near  one  of  the  long  windows  behind  the  receiv 
ing  line;  but  she  felt  secure  in  her  insignificance  and 
quite  content  to  gaze  uninterruptedly  at  the  greatest 
function  she  had  ever  seen.  After  the  bitter  hard  work, 
the  long  monotonies,  the  brief  terrible  excitements,  of 
the  past  four  years,  and  the  depressed  febrile  atmos 
phere  of  Paris  during  the  last  year  when  avions  dropped 

269 


270          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

their  bombs  nearly  every  night,  and  Big  Bertha  struck 
terror  to  each  quarter  in  turn,  this  gay  and  gorgeous 
scene  recalled  one's  most  extravagant  dreams  of  fairy 
land  and  Arabia;  and  Alexina  felt  like  a  very  young 
girl.  Even  the  almost  constant  sensation  of  fatigue, 
mental  and  bodily,  fell  from  her  as  she  forgot  that  she 
had  worked  from  nine  until  six  for  three  years  in  her 
oeuvre,  often  walking  the  miles  to  and  from  her  hotel  or 
pension  to  avoid  the  crowded  trams ;  the  distasteful  food ; 
the  tremors  that  had  shaken  even  her  tempered  soul  when 
the  flashing  of  the  German  guns,  drawing  ever  nearer, 
could  be  seen  at  night  on  the  horizon. 

And  Paris  had  been  so  dark ! 

She  reveled  almost  sensuously  in  the  excessiveness  of 
the  contrast,  quite  unconcerned  that  her  white  gown  was 
several  years  out  of  date.  For  that  matter  there  were 
few  gowns,  in  these  vast  rooms,  of  this  year's  fashion. 
Although  Paris  had  begun  to  dance  wildly  the  day  the 
Armistice  was  declared,  not  only  in  sheer  reaction  from 
a  long  devotion  to  its  ideal  of  duty,  but  that  the  Ameri 
can  officers  should  have  the  opportunity  to  discover  the 
loveliness  and  charm  of  the  French  maiden,  the  women 
had  not  yet  found  time  to  renew  their  wardrobes,  and 
the  only  gowns  in  the  room  less  than  four  years  old 
were  worn  by  the  newly  arrived  Americans  of  the  Peace 
Commission  and  the  ladies  of  the  Embassy.  The  most 
striking  figures  were  the  French  Generals  in  their  horizon 
blue  uniforms  and  rows  of  orders  on  their  hardy  chests. 

Of  jewels  there  were  few.  When  the  German  drive 
in  March  seemed  irresistible,  jewels  had  been  sent  to 
distant  estates,  or  to  banks  in  Marseilles  and  Lyons,  and 
there  had  been  no  time  to  retrieve  them  after  the  am 
bassador  sent  out  his  sudden  invitations.  Alexina  smiled 
as  she  recalled  Olive  de  Morsigny's  lament  over  the 
absence  of  her  tiara.  European  women  of  society  take 
their  jewels  very  seriously,  and  there  was  not  a  French 
woman  present  who  did  not  possess  a  tiara,  however 
old-fashioned. 

But  the  cold  luminosity  of  jewels  would  have  been 
extinguished  to-night  under  this  really  terrific  down 
pour  of  light.  The  tall  candelabra  against  the  tapestried 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          271 

or  the  white  and  gold  walls  were  relieved  of  duty ;  Paris 
had  had  enough  of  candlelight;  the  four  immense  chan 
deliers  of  this  reception  room,  either  of  which  would 
have  illuminated  a  restaurant,  had  been  rewired  and 
blazed  like  suns.  Suspended  from  the  ceiling,  festooned 
between  the  candelabra  and  the  chandeliers,  were  clus 
ters  and  loops  of  glass  tupils  and  roses,  each  concealing 
an  electric  bulb.  Alexina  reflected  that  the  soft  haze  of 
candles  might  be  more  artistic  and  becoming,  but  was 
grateful  nevertheless  for  this  rather  tasteless  fury  of 
light,  symptomatic  as  it  was;  and  understood  the  am 
bassador's  revolt  against  the  enforced  economies  of  a 
long  war,  his  desire  to  do  honor  to  his  unassuming  little 
sovereign. 

n 

The  room,  whose  lofty  ceiling  was  supported  along  the 
center  by  three  massive  pillars,  was  already  crowded, 
and  people  entered  constantly.  Every  embassy  was  rep 
resented,  all  the  grande  noblesse  of  Paris  and  even  a 
stray  Bourbon  and  Bonaparte.  A  few  of  the  guests  were 
the  more  distinguished  American  residents  of  Paris  and 
their  gowns  were  as  out  of  date  if  as  inimitably  cut  as 
the  Frenchwomen's,  for  they  had  worked  as  hard.  But 
Alexina  ceased  to  notice  them.  She  had  become  aware 
that  two  American  officers,  standing  still  closer  to  the 
window,  were  talking.  One  of  them  had  parted  the 
curtains  and  was  looking  out. 

'  *  By  Jove, ' '  he  said.  * '  Strikes  me  this  is  rather  risky. 
Six  long  windows  opening  on  the  garden,  and  the  King 
standing  directly  in  front  of  one  of  them.  Fine  chance 
for  some  filthy  Bolshevik  or  anarchist. ' ' 

"Oh,  nonsense,"  said  the  other  absently;  his  eyes  were 
roving  over  the  room.  "Wish  I  could  take  to  one  of 
these  French  girls  .  .  .  feel  it  a  sort  of  duty  to  increase 
the  rapport  and  all  that  .  .  .  but  although  the  married 
women  and  the  other  sort  of  girls  are  a  long  sight  more 
fascinating  than  ours,  the  upper " 

"American  girls  for  me.  But  I'm  still  jumpy,  and 
this  sort  of  carelessness  makes  me  nervous,  particularly 
as  the  story  is  going  about  that  the  King  came  near 


272          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

being  assassinated  in  the  station  of  his  home  town  when 
he  was  leaving.  Man  fired  point  blank  at  his  face,  but 
gun  didn't  go  off  or  some  one  knocked  up  the  man's  arm. 
Did  you  notice  that  he  looked  about  rather  apprehen 
sively  when  he  arrived  at  the  station  yesterday?  No 
wonder,  poor  devil. ' ' 

in 

Alexina  moved  off,  making  her  way  slowly,  but  finally 
was  forced  to  halt  near  the  row  of  pillars.  She  was 
looking  through  the  opposite  door  at  the  fantastic  illu 
minations  of  the  hall  and  reception  rooms  beyond,  when, 
without  a  second's  warning  flicker,  every  light  in  the 
house  went  out. 

Simultaneously  the  high  clatter  of  voices  ceased  as  if 
the  old  familiar  cry  of  " Alert e"  had  sounded  in  the 
street.  Involuntarily,  as  people  in  real  life  do  act,  her 
hands  clutched  her  heart,  her  mouth  opened  to  relieve 
her  lungs.  A  Frenchman  whispered  beside  her.  ''The 
King!  A  plot!" 

She  waited  to  hear  screams  from  the  women,  wild 
ejaculations  from  the  men.  But  the  years  of  war  and 
danger  had  extinguished  the  weak  and  exalted  the 
strong.  Beyond  the  almost  inaudible  gasp  of  her  neigh 
bor  Alexina  heard  nothing.  The  silence  was  as  profound 
as  the  darkness  and  that  was  abysmal ;  she  could  not  see 
the  white  of  her  gown. 

All,  she  knew,  were  waiting  for  the  sound  of  a  pistol 
shot,  or  of  a  groan  as  the  King  fell  with  a  knife  in  his 
back. 

Then  she  became  aware  that  men  were  forcing  their 
way  through  the  crowd;  she  was  almost  flung  into  the 
arms  of  a  man  behind  her.  Later  she  knew  that  a  group 
of  officers  had  surrounded  their  King  and  rushed  him 
up  the  room  to  place  him  in  front  of  the  central  pillar, 
but  at  the  moment  she  believed  that  they  were  either 
carrying  out  his  body,  or  that  a  group  of  anarchists  was 
escaping. 

IV 

Then  one  man  lit  a  match.  She  saw  a  pale  strained 
face,  the  eyes  roving  excitedly  above  the  flickering  flame. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          273 

Then  another  match  was  struck,  then  another.  Those 
that  had  no  matches  struck  their  briquets,  and  these 
burned  with  a  tiny  yellow  flame.  One  or  two  took  down 
candles  and  lit  them.  All  over  the  room,  in  little  groups, 
or  widely  separated,  Alexina  saw  face  after  face,  white 
and  anxious,  appear.  The  bodies  were  invisible.  The 
faces  hung,  pallid  disks,  in  the  dark. 

Her  attention  was  suddenly  arrested  by  a  face  above 
the  small  steady  flame  of  a  briquet.  It  was  a  thin  worn 
face,  probably  that  of  an  officer  recently  discharged  from 
hospital.  His  expression  was  ironic  and  unperturbed 
and  his  eyes  flashed  about  the  room  exhibiting  a  lively 
curiosity.  An  Englishman,  probably;  nothing  there  of 
the  severity  of  the  American  military  countenance;  al 
though,  to  be  sure,  that  had  relaxed  somewhat  these  last 
weeks  under  the  blandishments  of  Paris.  Nevertheless 
.  .  .  quite  apart  from  the  military,  there  was  the  curious 
unanalyzable  difference  between  the  extremely  well-bred 
American  face  and  the  extremely  well-bred  English  face. 
It  might  be  that  the  older  civilization  did  not  take  itself 
quite  so  seriously.  .  .  . 


Obeying  an  impulse,  which,  she  assured  herself  later, 
was  but  the  sudden  reaction  to  frivolity  from  the  horror 
that  had  possessed  her,  she  took  a  match  unceremoni 
ously  from  the  hand  of  a  neighbor,  lit  it  and  held  it  below 
her  own  face.  The  man's  eyes  met  hers  instantly,  opened 
a  little  wider,  then  narrowed. 

She  looked  at  him  steadily  .  .  .  interested  .  .  .  some 
thing  .  .  .  somewhere  .  .  .  stirring.  The  match  burnt 
her  fingers  and  was  hastily  extinguished.  At  the  same 
time  she  became  aware  of  a  fuller  effulgence  just  beyond 
the  pillars  and  that  people  were  moving  on,  some  retreat 
ing  toward  the  hall.  She  was  carried  forward  and  a 
little  later  turned  her  head,  forgetting  for  a  moment  the 
humorous  face  that  still  had  seemed  to  beckon  above 
the  white  disks  that  inspired  her  with  no  interest  what 
ever. 

Against  the  central  pillar  stood  the  King,  and  on 
either  side  of  him  two  officers  of  his  suite,  as  rigid  as 


274          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

men  in  armor,  held  aloft  each  a  great  candelabra  taken 
from  the  wall.  All  the  candles  in  the  branches  had  been 
lit  and  shone  down  on  the  composed  and  somewhat  ex 
pressionless  face  of  the  King.  The  strange  group  looked 
like  a  picture  in  some  old  cathedral  window. 

The  scene  lasted  only  a  moment.  Then  the  King, 
bowing  courteously,  left  the  room,  still  between  the 
candelabra ;  and,  followed  by  his  ambassador,  whose  face 
was  far  paler  than  his,  ascended  the  staircase. 


VI 

A  Frenchman  beside  Alexina  cursed  softly  and  she 
learned  the  meaning  of  the  dramatic  finale  to  a  superb 
but  rather  dull  function.  There  had  been  no  attempt  at 
assassination.  A  lead  fuse  had  melted ;  the  ambassador, 
who  had  taxed  his  imagination  to  honor  his  King,  had 
forgotten  to  give  the  order  that  electricians  remain  on 
guard  to  avert  just  such  a  calamity  as  this. 

As  the  explanation  ran  round  the  room  people  began 
to  laugh  and  chatter  rapidly  as  if  they  feared  the  sudden 
reaction  might  end  in  hysteria.  But  although  all  the 
candles  had  now  been  lit,  the  effort  to  revive  the  mild 
exhilaration  of  the  evening  was  fruitless.  They  wanted 
to  get  away.  Many  still  believed  that  a  plot  had  been 
balked,  and  that  the  assassins  were  lurking  in  one  of  the 
many  rooms  of  the  hotel. 

Alexina  met  Olive  de  Morsigny  in  the  dressing-room, 
and  found  her  white  and  shaking,  although  for  four 
years  she  had  proved  herself  a  woman  of  strong  nerves 
as  well  as  of  untiring  effort. 

1 1  Great  heaven ! ' '  she  whispered,  as  she  helped  Alexina 
on  with  her  wrap.  "If  he  had  been  assassinated!  In 
Paris!  I  thought  Andre  would  faint.  His  last  wound 
is  barely  healed.  Come,  let  us  get  out  of  this.  Who 
knows  ?  ...  In  Paris !  .  .  . " 

Their  car  had  to  wait  its  turn.  As  Alexina  stood  with 
her  silent  friends  in  the  porte  cochere  the  certainty  grew 
that  some  one  was  watching  her.  That  officer?  Who 
else?  She  flashed  her  eyes  over  the  crowd  about  her, 
then  into  the  densely  packed  hall  behind.  But  she  en- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          275 

countered  no  pair  of  eyes  even  remotely  humorous,  no 
face  in  any  degree  familiar.  .  .  .  Later  she  whirled 
about  again.  .  .  .  There  was  a  pillar  .  .  .  easy  to  dodge 
behind  it.  ...  At  this  moment  Andre  took  her  elbow 
and  gently  piloted  her  into  the  car. 


CHAPTER  II 


A  LEXINA    in  the  weariness  of  reaction  climbed  the 
**•    long  stairs  of  her  pension  in  Passy. 

Sibyl  Bascom,  whose  husband  being  on  government 
duty  in  Washington  left  her  free  to  go  to  France,  and 
who  rolled  bandages  all  day  long  in  the  great  hospital 
in  Neuilly;  Janet  Maynard  and  Alice  Thorndyke,  who 
ran  a  canteen  in  the  environs  of  Paris,  and  herself,  had 
lived  until  the  Armistice  in  a  comfortable  hotel  not  far 
from  the  house  of  Olive  de  Morsigny,  and  found  much 
solace  together.  But  their  hotel  had  been  commandeered 
for  one  of  the  Commissions ;  Sibyl  had  taken  refuge  with 
her  sister-in-law,  and  Alexina,  Janet,  and  Alice  had 
found  with  no  little  difficulty  vacant  rooms  in  a  second- 
rate  pension  in  Passy.  The  food  was  even  worse  than 
at  the  hotel,  the  rooms  were  barely  heated,  and  as  trams 
at  Alexina 's  hours  were  airless  and  jammed,  and  taxicabs 
in  swarming  Paris  as  scarce  as  tiaras,  with  drivers  of  an 
unsurpassable  effrontery,  she  was  forced  to  walk  three 
miles  a  day  in  all  weathers.  It  is  true  that  she  could 
have  rented  a  limousine  for  a  thousand  francs  a  month, 
but  it  was  almost  a  religion  with  workers  of  her  class 
to  economize  rigorously  and  give  all  their  surplus  to  the 
oeuvre  of  their  devotion.  Janet  and  Alice  went  back  and 
forth  in  one  of  the  supply  camions  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 


ii 

Alexina  passed  Janet 's  room  softly.    She  saw  a  light 
under  the  door  and  inferred  that  she  and  Alice  were 


276          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

playing  poker  and  consuming  many  cigarettes,  that 
being  their  idea  of  recuperation  between  one  hard  day's 
work  and  the  next.  She  was  in  no  mood  for  talking. 

Her  room  was  stuffy  as  well  as  cold ;  the  furniture  and 
curtains  had  probably  not  been  changed  since  the  second 
empire.  She  opened  one  of  the  long  windows  and  stepped 
out  on  the  balcony.  The  Seine  was  nearly  in  flood  after 
the  heavy  rains,  but  it  reflected  the  stars  to-night  and 
many  long  banners  of  light  from  the  almost  festive  banks. 

It  was  bitterly  cold  and  she  closed  her  window  in  a 
moment  and  moved  about  her  room.  It  was  too  cold  to 
undress.  She  was  inured  to  discomforts  and  thankful 
that  she  had  been  brought  up  in  San  Francisco,  which  is 
seldom  warm;  but  she  longed  for  a  few  creature  com 
forts  nevertheless.  During  the  war  she  had  sustained 
herself  with  the  thought  of  the  men  in  the  trenches,  but 
now  that  their  lot  was  ameliorated  she  felt  that  she  had 
a  right  to  what  comforts  she  could  find.  The  difficulty 
was  to  find  them.  With  Paris  overflowing,  Generals 
sleeping  in  servants'  rooms  under  the  roof,  soldiers, 
even  officers,  picking  up  women  on  the  streets  if  only  to 
have  a  bed  for  the  night,  and  hotel  after  hotel  being 
requisitioned  for  the  various  Peace  Commissions  and 
their  illimitable  suites,  conditions  were  likely  to  grow 
worse.  Olive  de  Morsigny  had  repeatedly  offered  hos 
pitality,  but  she  preferred  her  independence. 

To  leave  was  impossible.  Her  oeuvre  must  continue 
for  several  months.  Sick  and  wounded  men  do  not  re 
cover  miraculously  with  the  cessation  of  hostilities.  No 
doubt  she  should  be  grateful  for  this  refuge,  and  now 
that  the  war  was  over  it  might  be  possible  to  buy  petrol 
for  an  oil  stove. 

Then  she  became  aware  that  it  was  not  only  the  cold 
that  made  her  restless.  The  rigidly  enforced  calm  of  her 
inner  life  had  received  a  shock  to-night  and  not  from 
the  imagined  assassination  of  a  king. 

She  went  suddenly  to  her  mirror  and  looked  at  herself 
intently  .  .  .  shook  her  head  with  a  frown.  She  had 
always  been  slim;  she  was  now  very  thin.  The  round 
ness  and  color  had  left  her  cheeks.  They  were  pale — 
almost  hollow.  Janet  and  Alice  had  rejoiced  in  the  lack 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          277 

of  fats  and  sweets,  both  having  a  tendency  to  plumpness 
had  achieved  without  effort  the  most  fashionable  slender- 
ness  that  anxious  woman  could  wish.  But  she  had  not 
had  a  pound  to  lose.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  was 
almost  plain.  Her  eyes  retained  their  dazzling  bril 
liancy,  a  trick  of  nature  that  old  age  alone  no  doubt 
could  conquer,  but  there  were  dark  stains  beneath  the 
lower  lashes. 

She  let  down  her  hair.  It  was  the  same  soft  dusky 
mass  as  ever.  Her  teeth  were  as  even  and  bright;  her 
lips  had  not  lost  their  curves,  but  they  were  pink,  not 
red.  She  was  anemic,  no  doubt.  Why,  in  heaven's 
name,  shouldn't  she  be  ?  Even  Olive,  whose  major  domo, 
driving  a  Ford,  had  paid  daily  visits  to  the  farms  and 
brought  back  what  eggs,  chickens  and  other  succulences 
the  peasants  would  part  with  for  coin,  had  lost  her  bril 
liant  color  and  the  full  lines  of  her  beautiful  figure. 
She  had  rouged  to-night  and  looked  as  lovely  as  when 
Morsigny  had  captured  her,  but  her  magnificent  gown 
had  been  too  hastily  taken  in  by  an  elderly  inefficient 
maid — her  young  one  having  patriotically  deserted  her 
for  munitions  long  since, — and  sagged  on  her  bones  as  she 
expressed  it.  Sibyl,  who  was  in  bed  with  the  flu,  had 
offered  to  lend  her  one  of  the  new  ones  she  had  had  the 
forethought  to  buy  in  New  York  before  sailing,  and  was 
only  a  year  old,  but  Olive  had  feared  the  critical  eyes  of 
French  women  who  had  not  replenished  their  evening 
wardrobes  since  nineteen-fourteen. 

Alexina  did  not  feel  particularly  consoled  because 
others  had  looked  no  better  than  she.  Until  to-night  she 
had  given  little  thought  to  her  looks,  but  she  now  felt  a 
renewed  interest  in  herself,  and  the  frown  was  as  much 
for  this  revival  as  for  her  wilted  beauty. 

Her  evening  wrap  was  very  warm  and  she  sat  down 
in  the  hard  arm-chair  and  huddled  into  its  folds,  cover 
ing  the  lower  part  of  her  body  with  a  hideous  brown 
quilt.  No  doubt  the  sheets  were  damp,  and  she  knew 
that  she  could  not  sleep.  Why  shiver  in  bed  ? 


278          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

m 

Was  it  Gathbroke  ?  It  was  long  since  she  had  thought 
of  him.  She  had  not  even  seen  his  photograph  for  four 
or  five  years.  If  it  were,  he  had  changed  even  more 
since  that  photograph  had  been  taken  than  after  she  had 
dismissed  him  at  Rincona. 

She  was  by  no  means  sure  that  it  was  he.  The  light 
of  a  briquet  was  not  precisely  searching,  and  for  the  most 
part  he  had  looked  like  more  than  one  war-worn  British 
officer  she  had  seen  during  her  long  residence  in  Paris. 
...  It  was  something  in  the  eyes  .  .  .  she  could  have 
vowed  they  were  hazel  .  .  .  their  expression  had 
altered;  it  was  that  of  a  somewhat  ironic  man  of  the 
world,  which  had  changed  as  she  watched  them  to  the 
piercing  alertness  of  a  man  of  action  .  .  .  but  after  .  .  . 
was  it  perhaps  an  emanation  of  the  personality  that  had 
so  impressed  her  angry  young  soul  and  refused  to  be 
obliterated  ? 

But  what  of  it?  He  might  be  married.  Love  another 
woman.  All  officers  and  soldiers  during  the  war  had 
looked  about  eagerly  for  love,  when  not  already  supplied, 
and  given  themselves  up  to  it,  indifferent  as  they  may 
have  been  before.  .  .  .  Life  seemed  shorter  every  time 
they  went  back  to  the  front. 

And  if  not  why  should  he  be  attracted  to  her  again? 
He  had  loved  her  for  a  moment  when  she  had  been  in 
the  first  flush  of  her  exquisite  youth.  That  was  twelve 
years  ago.  She  was  now  thirty.  True,  thirty,  to-day, 
was  but  the  beginning  of  a  woman's  third  youth,  and  a 
few  weeks  in  the  California  sunshine  and  nourished  by 
the  California  abundance  would  restore  her  looks,  no 
doubt  of  that.  But  she  would  look  no  better  as  long  as 
she  remained  in  Paris.  .  .  .  Nor  did  she  wish  to  return 
to  California  .  .  .  and  bey_ond  all  question  he  must  have 
forgotten,  lost  all  interest  in  her  long  since. 

Still — there  had  been  an  eager  upspringing  light  in 
his  eyes  .  .  .  was  it  recognition?  .  .  .  merely  the  pass 
ing  impulse  of  flirtation  over  a  match  and  a  briquet? 
...  No  doubt  she  would  never  see  him  again. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  279 


CHAPTER  III 


1P\ID  she  want  to  ? 

•"^  She  had  gone  through  many  and  extraordinary 
phases  during  these  years  of  close  personal  contact  with 
the  martial  history  of  Europe,  as  precisely  different  from 
the  first  twenty-six  years  of  her  life  as  peace  from  war. 

During  those  months  of  nineteen-fifteen  when  she  had 
worked  in  hospitals  close  to  the  front  as  auxiliary  nurse, 
all  the  high  courage  of  her  nature  which  she  had  in 
herited  from  a  long  line  of  men  who  had  fought  in  the 
Civil  War,  the  Revolution,  and  in  the  colonial  wars 
before  that,  and  the  tribal  wars  that  came  after,  and  all 
that  she  had  inherited  from  those  foremothers  whose 
courage,  as  severely  tested,  had  never  failed  either  their 
men  or  their  country;  in  short,  the  inheritance  of  the 
best  American  tradition ;  had  risen  automatically  to  sus 
tain  her  during  that  period  of  incessant  danger  and 
horror.  She  had  been  firm  and  smiling  for  the  consola 
tion  of  wounded  men  when  under  direct  shell  fire.  She 
had  felt  so  profound  a  pity  for  the  mutilated  patient 
men  that  it  had  seemed  to  cleanse  her  of  every  selfish 
impulse  fostered  by  a  too  sheltered  life.  She  had  bathed 
so  many  helpless  bodies  that  she  lost  all  sense  of  sex  and 
felt  herself  a  part  of  the  eternal  motherhood  of  the 
world.  She  had  once  thrown  herself  over  the  bed  of  a 
politely  protesting  poilu,  covering  his  helpless  body  with 
her  own,  as  a  shell  from  a  taube  came  through  the  roof. 

That  had  been  a  wonderful,  a  noble  and  exalted  (not 
to  say  exhilarating)  period;  a  period  that  made  her 
almost  grateful  for  a  war  that  revealed  to  her  such  un 
dreamed  of  possibilities  in  her  soul.  She  might  smile 
at  it  in  satiric  wonder  in  the  retrospect,  but  at  least  it 
was  ineradicable  in  her  memory. 

If  it  could  but  have  lasted !  But  it  had  not.  Insensi 
bly  she  accepted  suffering,  sacrifice,  pity,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  even  as  danger  and  death.  It  had  been  the 


280  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

romance  of  war  she  had  experienced  in  spite  of  its 
horrors,  and  no  romance  lives  after  novelty  has  fled. 
For  months  nothing  seemed  to  affect  her  bodily  resist 
ance  to  fatigue,  and  as  exaltation  dropped,  as  the  monot 
ony  of  nursing,  even  of  danger,  left  her  mind  more  and 
more  free,  as  war  grew  more  and  more  to  seem  the  nor 
mal  condition  of  life,  more  and  more  she  became  con 
scious  of  herself. 


Life  at  the  front  is  very  primitive.  Social  relations 
as  the  world  knows  them  cease  to  exist.  The  habits  of 
the  past  are  almost  forgotten.  It  is  death  and  blood; 
shells  shrieking,  screaming,  whining,  jangling ;  the  boom 
of  great  guns  as  if  Nature  herself  were  in  a  constant 
electrical  orgasm;  hideous  stench;  torn  bodies,  groans, 
cries,  still  more  terrible  silences  of  brave  men  in  torment ; 
incessant  unintermittent  danger.  Above  all,  blood, 
blood,  blood.  She  believed  she  should  smell  it  as  long 
as  she  lived.  She  knew  it  in  every  stage  from  the  fresh 
dripping  blood  of  men  rushed  from  the  field  to  the 
evacuation  hospitals,  to  the  black  caked  and  stinking 
blood  of  men  rescued  from  No  Man's  Land  endless  days 
and  nights  after  they  had  fallen. 

All  that  was  elementary  in  her  strong  nature,  in 
herited  from  strong,  full-blooded,  often  reckless  and 
ruthless  men,  gradually  welled  to  the  surface.  She  was 
possessed  by  a  savage  desire  for  life,  a  bitter  inordinate 
passion  for  life.  Why  not,  when  life  might  be  extin 
guished  at  any  moment?  What  was  there  in  life  but 
life?  Farcical  that  anything  else  could  ever  have 
mattered. 

Civilization — by  which  men  meant  the  varied  and 
pleasant  times  of  peace — seemed  incredibly  insipid  and 
out  of  date.  It  had  no  more  relation  to  this  war-zone 
than  her  youth  to  this  swift  and  terrible  maturity. 

She  was  in  many  hospitals — rushed  where  an  indom 
itable  and  tireless  auxiliary  nurse  was  most  in  demand — 
some  under  the  direction  of  the  noblesse  division  of  the 
Red  Cross,  others  under  the  bourgeois ;  and  in  more  than 
one  were  English  and  American  girls,  long  resident  in 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  281 

France,  or,  in  the  latter  case,  come  from  America  like 
herself  to  serve  the  country  for  which  they  had  a 
romantic  passion.  The  majority,  of  course,  were  French 
women,  young  (in  their  first  freedom),  middle-aged, 
elderly. 

Of  these  some  were  placid,  emotionless,  extinguished, 
consistently  nohle,  selfless,  profoundly  and  simply  re 
ligious,  as  correct  in  every  thought  and  deed  as  the  best 
bourgeois  peace  society  of  any  land. 

But  others !  Alexina  had  been  horrified  at  first  at  the 
wanderings  off  after  nightfall  of  women  who  had  nursed 
like  scientific  angels  by  day,  accompanied  by  men  who 
were  never  more  men  than  when  any  moment  might  turn 
them  into  carrion.  But  with  her  mental  suppleness  she 
had  quickly  readjusted  her  point  of  view.  There  is  noth 
ing  as  sensual  as  war.  It  is  the  quintessential  carnality. 
Kenan  once  wrote  a  story  of  the  French  Revolution, 
"The  Abbess  Juarre,"  in  which  his  thesis  was  that  if 
warning  were  given  that  the  world  would  end  in  three 
days  the  entire  population  of  the  globe  would  give  itself 
over  to  an  orgy  of  sex;  sex  being  life  itself.  It  is  the 
obsession  of  the  doomed  consumptive,  the  doomed  spin 
ster,  the  last  thought  of  a  man  with  the  rope  round  his 
neck. 

How  much  more  under  the  terrific  stimulation  of  war, 
the  constant  heedless  annihilation  of  life  in  its  flower 
and  its  maturity  ?  Man 's  inveterate  enemy,  death,  shriek 
ing  its  derision  in  the  very  shells  of  man 's  one  inviolable 
right,  the  right  to  drift  into  eternity  through  the  peace 
ful  corridors  of  old  age.  War  is  a  monstrous  anachro 
nism  and  a  monstrous  miscarriage  of  justice.  The  igno 
rant  feel  it  less.  It  is  the  enlightened,  the  intelligent, 
accustomed  to  the  higher  delights  of  civilization,  to  the 
perfecting  of  such  endowments,  however  modest,  as  their 
ancestors  have  transmitted  and  peace  has  encouraged, 
with  ambitions  and  hopes  and  dreams,  that  resent  how 
ever  sub-consciously  the  constant  snarling  of  death  at 
their  heels.  All  the  forces  of  mind  and  body  and  spirit 
become  formidable  in  a  reckless  hatred  of  the  gross  in 
justice  of  a  fate  that  individually  not  one  of  {hem  has 
deserved. 


282  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

But  the  moment  remains.  They  compress  into  it  the 
desires  of  a  lifetime.  After  years  of  proud  individual 
ism  they  have  learned  that  they  are  atoms,  cogs,  help 
less,  the  sport  of  iron  and  steel  and  powder  and  the 
ambitions  and  stupidities  of  men  whose  lives  are  never 
risked.  Very  well,  turn  the  ego  loose  to  find  what  it  can. 
If  all  they  have  learned  from  civilization  is  as  useless  in 
this  shrieking  hell,  as  impotent,  as  the  dumb  resent 
ment  of  the  clod,  they  can  at  least  be  animals. 

To  talk  of  the  ennobling  influences  of  war  is  one  of  the 
lies  of  the  conventionalized  mind  anxious  to  avoid  the 
truths  of  life  and  to  extract  good  from  all  evil — worthy 
but  unintelligent.  How  can  men  in  the  trenches,  foul 
with  dirt  and  vermin,  stench  forever  in  their  nostrils, 
callous  to  death  and  suffering,  wallowing  like  pigs  in  a 
trough,  compulsorily  obscene,  be  ennobled?  Courage  is 
the  commonest  attribute  of  man,  a  universal  gift  of  Na 
ture  that  he  may  exist  in  a  world  bristling  with  dangers 
to  frail  human  life;  never  to  be  commended,  only  to  be 
remarked  when  absent.  If  men  lose  it  in  the  city,  the 
sedentary  life,  they  recover  it  quickly  in  the  camp.  The 
exceptions,  the  congenital  cowards,  slink  out  of  war  on 
any  pretext,  but  if  drafted  are  likely  to  acquit  them 
selves  decently  unless  neurotic.  The  cases  of  cowardice 
in  active  warfare  are  extremely  rare ;  a  mechanical  chat 
tering  of  teeth,  or  shaking  of  limbs,  but  practically  never 
a  refusal  to  obey  the  command  to  advance.  But  it  is  this 
very  courage  which  breeds  callousness,  and,  combined 
with  bestial  conditions,  inevitably  brutalizes. 

When  good  people  (far,  oh  far,  from  the  zones  of 
danger)  can  no  longer  in  the  face  of  accumulating  evi 
dence,  cling  to  their  sentimental  theory  that  war  en 
nobles,  they  take  refuge  in  the  vague  but  plausible  sub 
stitute  that  at  least  it  makes  the  good  better  and  the 
bad  worse.  Possibly,  but  it  is  to  be  remembered  that 
there  is  bad  in  the  best  even  where  there  is  no  good  in 
the  worst. 

Indubitably  it  leaves  its  indelible  mark  in  a  collection 
of  hideous  memories,  on  the  just  and  the  unjust,  alike; 
as  it  is  more  difficult  (Nature  having  made  human  nature 
in  an  ironical  mood)  to  recall  the  pleasant  moments  of 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  283 

life  than  the  poignantly  unpleasant,  so  is  it  far  more 
difficult  to  recall  the  moments  of  exaltation,  of  that  in 
tense  spiritual  desire  which  visits  the  high  and  low  alike, 
to  give  their  all  for  the  safety  of  their  country  and  the 
honor  of  their  flag.  Moreover,  the  sublime  indifference 
in  the  face  of  certain  death  often  has  its  origin  in  a  still 
deeper  necessity  to  relieve  the  insufferable  strain  on 
scarified  nerves,  and  forever.  As  for  the  much  vaunted 
recrudescence  of  the  religious  spirit  which  is  one  of  the 
recurring  phenomena  of  war,  it  is  merely  an  instinct  of 
the  subtle  mind,  in  its  subtlest  depths  called  soul,  to 
indulge  in  the  cowardice  of  dependence  since  the  body 
must  know  no  fear. 

If  men  who  have  been  temperate  and  moral  all  their 
lives,  or  at  the  worst  indulging  in  moderation,  spend 
their  leaves  of  absence  from  the  front  like  swine,  it  is 
not  a  reaction  from  the  monotony  of  trench  life,  or 
from  the  nerve-racking  din  of  war,  but  merely  an  exten 
sion  of  the  fearful  stimulation  of  a  purely  carnal  exist 
ence,  even  where  the  directing  mind  is  ever  on  the 
alert. 

The  aggressors  of  war  should  be  pilloried  in  life  and 
in  history.  Men  must  defend  their  country  if  attacked ; 
to  do  less  would  be  to  sink  lower  than  the  beasts  that 
defend  their  lairs;  and  for  that  reason  all  pacifists,  and 
conscientious  objectors,  are  abject,  mean,  and  shabby. 
In  times  of  national  danger  no  man  has  a  right  to  in 
dulge  his  own  conscience;  it  merges,  if  he  be  a  normal 
courageous  man,  into  the  national  conscience.  But  that 
very  fact  lowers  the  deliberate  seekers  of  war  so  far 
below  the  high  plane  of  civilization  as  we  know  it,  that 
they  should  be  blotted  out  of  existence. 


m 

As  regards  women  Alexina  was  not  likely  to  remain 
shocked  for  long  at  any  erratic  manifestations  of  tem 
perament.  Pride  and  fastidiousness  and  the  steel  armor 
fused  by  circumstances  had  protected  her  heretofore 
from  any  divagations  of  her  own ;  nor  had  crystallized 
temptation  ever  approached  her. 


284  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

But  her  education  had  been  liberal.  Several  of  her 
intimate  friends  and  more  that  she  associated  with  daily 
made  what  she  euphemistically  termed  a  cult  of  men. 
The  naive  deliberate  immorality  of  young  things  not 
only  in  the  best  society  but  in  all  walks  of  life  is  far 
more  prevalent  than  the  good  people  of  this  world  will 
ever  believe.  Those  with  much  to  lose  seldom  lose  it; 
the  instinct  of  self -protection  envelops  them  as  a  mantle ; 
although  in  small  towns,  where  concealments  are  less 
simple,  the  majority  of  scandals  are  not  about  married 
women  as  in  a  less  sophisticated  era,  but  about  girls. 

Alexina  had  possessed  numerous  confidences,  helped 
more  than  once  to  throw  dust,  amiably  replaced  the  post. 
She  had  never  approved,  but  she  was  philosophical. 
She  took  life  as  she  found  it;  although  the  fact  stood 
out  that  Aileen,  who  was  indifferent  to  men,  remained 
always  her  favorite  friend. 

An  individualist,  she  felt  it  no  part  of  her  philosophy 
to  criticize  the  acts  of  women  with  different  desires, 
weaknesses,  temptations,  equipment  from  her  own;  all 
other  things  being  equal.  That  was  the  point.  These 
girls  who  made  use  of  their  most  secret  and  personal 
possession  as  they  saw  fit  were  as  well-bred  as  herself, 
honorable  in  all  their  dealings  with  one  another  and 
with  society  at  large,  generous,  tolerant,  exquisite  in 
their  habits,  often  highly  intelligent  and  studious.  Sex 
was  an  incident. 

With  the  peccadillos  of  married  women  who  were 
wives  she  had  little  tolerance  as  they  were  a  breach  of 
faith,  a  deliberate  violation  of  contract,  and  indecent  to 
boot.  She  was  quite  aware  that  Sibyl  for  all  her  postur- 
ings,  and  avidness  for  sex  admiration,  and  "acting 
oriental"  as  the  phrase  went,  was  entirely  devoted  to 
Prank.  Such  of  her  married  friends  as  had  severed 
all  but  the  nominal  and  public  bond  with  their  legal 
husbands,  she  placed  in  the  same  category  as  girls  as 
far  as  her  personal  attitude  toward  them  went. 


IV 

Therefore  not  only  did  she  understand  these  young 
women  driven  by  the  horrid  stimulus  of  war;  women 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          285 

(or  girls)  heretofore  sheltered,  virtuous,  romantic,  senti 
mental,  now  merely  filled  with  the  lust  of  life.  They 
were,  like  herself,  devoted  and  meticulous  nurses,  brave, 
high-minded,  tender;  practically  all,  if  not  from  the 
upper,  at  least  from  the  educated  ranks  of  life.  But 
they  lived  under  the  daily  shadow  of  death.  Even  when 
safe  from  the  shells  of  the  big  guns,  the  murderous  air 
craft  paid  them  daily  visits,  singling  out  hospitals  with 
diabolical  precision.  They  were  in  daily  contact  with 
young  torn  human  bodies  from  which  had  gone  forever 
the  purpose  for  which  one  generation  precedes  another. 
Life  was  horror.  Blood  and  death  and  shattered  bodies 
were  their  daily  portion.  No  matter  how  brave,  they 
heard  death  scream  in  every  shell.  The  world  beyond 
existed  as  a  mirage.  No  wonder  they  became  primeval. 
Alexina  had  met  Alice  Thorndyke  in  one  of  these  hos 
pitals  and  observed  her  with  some  curiosity.  But  Alice 
was,  to  use  her  own  vernacular,  the  best  little  bourgeoise 
of  them  all.  She  had  had  her  fling.  Men  repelled  her. 
She  never  meant  to  marry,  even  for  substance.  When 
the  war  was  over  she  should  live  the  completely  inde 
pendent  life.  Nobody  would  care  what  economic  liberties 
a  woman  took  in  the  new  era.  The  war  had  liberalized 
the  most  conservative  old  bunch  of  relatives  a  girl  was 
ever  inflicted  with. 


As  Alexina  sat  huddled  in  her  warm  coat — the  peri 
winkle  blue  to  which  she  was  still  faithful — her  dark 
fine  hair,  hanging  about  her,  a  mantle  in  itself,  she  re 
called  those  days  when  she,  too,  had  vibrated  to  that 
savage  lust  for  life;  those  days  of  concentrated  egoism, 
of  deep  and  powerful  passions  whose  existence  she  had 
only  dimly  begun  to  suspect  after  she  dismissed  her 
husband. 

What  had  held  her  back?  She  had  had  a  no  more 
fastidious  inheritance  than  most  of  those  wpmen,  a  no 
more  cultivated  intelligence,  nor  proud  instinct  of  selec 
tion,  nor  ingrained  habit  of  self-control. 

She  had  put  it  down  at  first  to  fastidiousness,  possibly 
a  still  lurking  desire  to  be  able  to  give  all  to  one  man ; 
that  hope  of  the  complete  mating  which  no  woman  relin- 


286          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

quishes  until  toothless,  certainly  not  in  the  mere  zone  of 
death. 

She  had  concluded  that  it  was  neither  of  these,  or  at 
least  that  they  had  but  played  a  part,  and  alone  would 
never  have  won.  It  was  a  furious  mental  revolt  at  the 
terrific  power  of  the  body,  the  mind,  frightened  and  cor 
nered,  determined  to  dominate;  a  fierce  delight  in  the 
battle  raging  behind  her  serene  and  smiling  mask  to  the 
accompaniment  of  that  vulgar  blare  of  war  where  mind 
over  matter  was  as  powerless  in  the  death  throe  as  in 
cantations  during  an  eruption  of  Vesuvius. 

This  internal  silent  warfare  between  her  long  reed-like 
body  as  little  sensible  to  fatigue  as  if  made  of  flexible 
steel  and  her  extremely  cold  proud  chaste-looking  head 
had  grown  to  be  of  such  absorbing  interest  that  the 
knowledge  of  its  cessation  was  almost  a  shock.  It  was 
after  a  prolonged  experience  in  a  hospital  where  they 
Were  short  of  nurses  and  rest  was  almost  unknown  and 
the  inroads  upon  her  vitality  so  severe  and  menacing 
that  she  was  finally  ordered  to  Paris  to  rest,  and  there 
found  a  complete  change  of  habit  in  an  oeuvre  founded 
by  the  equally  exhausted  but  always  valiant  Olive  de 
Morsigny,  that  she  suddenly  realized  that  somewhere 
sometime  the  battle  had  finished  and  mind  and  body  were 
acting  in  complete  harmony. 


VI 

To-night  she  wondered  if  her  imagination,  turned 
loose,  stimulated,  had  not  missed  the  whole  point.  There 
had  been  no  man  who  had  made  the  direct  irresistible 
appeal.  No  concrete  temptation.  .  .  .  She  had  after 
all  been  a  degree  too  civilized  ...  or  ...  romantic 
idealism  ? 

There  had  been  little  to  stimulate  and  excite  since  she 
had  settled  down  to  office  work  in  the  summer  of  nine- 
teen-sixteen.  Her  nerves,  always  strong,  had  become  too 
case-hardened  to  be  affected  by  avions  or  the  immense 
uncertainties  of  Big  Bertha;  although  the  light  on  the 
horizon  at  night  during  the  last  German  Drive  and  the 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  287 

bellow   of   the   guns  had   shaken   her   with   a   sort   of 
reminiscent  excitement. 

But  for  the  most  part  she  had  felt  frozen,  torpid,  a 
cog  in  the  vast  military  machine  of  France,  dedicating 
herself  like  hundreds  of  other  women  to  the  succor  of 
men  she  never  saw.  That  extraordinary  abominable  ex 
perience  at  the  front  was  overlaid,  almost  forgotten. 
And  such  news  as  one  had  in  Paris  was  quite  enough  to 
exercise  the  mind.  .  .  .  There  had  been  the  downfall  of 
the  Russian  dynasty  .  .  .  the  still  more  sinister  down 
fall  of  the  true  revolutionists  .  .  .  the  Bolshevik  monster 
projecting  its  murderous  shadow  over  all  Europe,  expos 
ing  the  instability  of  the  entire  social  structure.  .  .  . 

VII 

Was  it?  Could  such  an  experience  ever  be  forgotten? 
The  grass  might  grow  over  the  dead  on  the  battlefields, 
but  the  corruption  fed  the  wheat,  and  the  people  of 
France  ate  the  bread.  This  uninvited  thought  had  in 
truded  itself  the  first  time  she  had  driven  by  the  Marne 
battlefields  and  seen  the  numberless  crosses  in  the  rich 
abundant  fields. 

She  smiled,  a  small,  secret,  ruthless  smile.  .  .  .  That 
was  her  residue :  ruthlessness.  She  may  have  left  behind 
her  in  the  turbulent  war-zone  the  savage  elementary  lust 
for  living  at  any  cost,  but  she  had  ineradicably  learned 
the  value  of  life,  its  brevity  at  best,  the  still  more  tragic 
brevity  of  youth;  she  had  a  store  of  hideous  memories 
which  could  only  be  submerged  first  in  the  performance 
of  duty  if  duty  were  imperative ;  then,  duty  discharged 
and  finished,  in  the  one  thing  that  during  its  brief  time 
gave  life  any  meaning,  made  this  earthly  sojourn  bear 
able.  If  she  met  the  man  she  wanted  she  would  have 
him  if  she  had  to  fight  for  him  tooth  and  nail. 

It  was  four  o  'clock.    She  went  to  bed. 


288          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  IV 


next  day  Alexina  found  herself  suddenly  free 
of  office  duty.  A  very  handsome  and  wealthy 
American  woman  who  had  not  been  able  to  visit  her 
beloved  Paris  since  the  beginning  of  the  World's  War, 
and  finding  the  State  Department  obdurate  to  the  whims 
of  pretty  women,  had  induced  Mrs.  Ballinger  Groome, 
on  one  of  whose  committees  she  had  worked  faithfully, 
to  ask  her  sister-in-law  to  inform  the  Department  of 
State  that  her  services  at  the  oeuvre  in  Paris  were  indis 
pensable. 

Alexina  had  passed  the  letter  on  to  the  President, 
Madame  de  Morsigny,  and  forgotten  the  incident.  Olive 
wrote  the  necessary  letter  promptly.  Not  only  did  she 
believe  that  the  time  had  come  for  Alexina  to  rest,  but 
she  longed  for  a  fresh  access  of  energy  in  the  office  that 
would  in  a  measure  relieve  herself.  Moreover,  Mrs. 
Wallack  was  wealthy  and  had  many  wealthy  friends. 
That  meant  more  money  for  the  oeuvre,  always  in  need 
of  money.  Olive  had  given  large  sums  herself,  but  the 
president  of  a  charity  is  yet  to  be  found  who  will  not 
permit  its  constant  demands  to  be  relieved  by  the  gen 
erous  puolic.  Mrs.  Wallack  had  not  only  promised  a 
substantial  donation  at  once,  but  a  monthly  contribution. 
This  had  not  been  named,  but  Madame  de  Morsigny 
meant  that  it  should  be  something  more  than  nominal. 
She  could  do  so  much  for  Mrs.  Wallack  socially,  now 
that  it  was  possible  to  entertain  again,  that  she  felt 
reasonably  confident  of  rousing  the  enthusiasm  of  any 
ambitious  New  Yorker.  Moreover,  Olive  had  a  very  in 
sinuating  way  with  her 

II 

Mrs.  Wallack  presented  herself  at  the  imposing  head 
quarters  of  the  oeuvre,  radiant,  fresh,  energetic,  beauti- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  289 

fully  dressed.  The  war  had  interested  her  and  com 
manded  her  sympathies  to  some  purpose,  but  nothing 
short  of  personal  affliction  could  subdue  that  inexhaust 
ible  vitality,  and  she  seemed  to  bring  into  the  dark  and 
solemn  rooms  something  of  the  atmospheric  gayety  and 
sunshine  of  a  land  that  had  done  much  but  suffered 
little. 

By  no  one  was  she  received  with  more  warmth  of 
welcome  than  by  Alexina.  The  sudden  release  made  her 
realize  sharply  her  lowered  vitality.  Moreover,  the  semi- 
yearly  income  which  had  just  arrived  from  California 
was  her  own  now  and  she  could  replenish  her  wardrobe 
and  feel  feminine  and  irresponsible  once  more.  The  re 
action  was  so  violent  that  after  inducting  Mrs.  "Wallack 
into  the  mysteries  of  her  desk  she  remained  in  bed, 
prostrate,  for  two  days.  Then,  feeling  several  years 
younger,  she  sallied  forth  in  search  of  many  things. 


m 

There  is  no  such  antidote  to  the  migraines  of  the 
woman  soul  as  clothes.  Their  only  rival  is  travel  and 
there  are  cases  where  they  know  none.  Sometimes 
women  remember  to  pity  men,  that  have  no  such  happy 
playground. 

Alexina  for  all  her  ramifications,  some  of  them  too 
deep,  had  a  light  and  feminine  side.  During  the  follow 
ing  fortnight  she  gave  it  full  rein;  she  was  absorbed, 
almost  happy.  She  spent  quite  recklessly  and  after  the 
years  of  economy  and  self-denial  this  alone  gave  her  an 
intense  satisfaction.  In  addition  to  her  income  for 
warded  by  Judge  Lawton,  who  had  charge  of  her  af 
faire,  her  brother  Ballinger,  who  was  as  fond  of  her  as 
of  his  own  children,  and  very  proud  of  her — she  had 
received  two  decorations — sent  her  a  large  check  with 
the  mandate  to  spend  it  on  herself. 


IV 

Even  so,  she  was  not  always  in  the  shops  and  the  dress 
makers  '  ateliers.    She  found  much  amusement  in  stroll- 


290          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

ing  up  and  down  the  arcades  of  the  Rue  de  Rivoli, 
watching  the  odd  throngs  at  which  Paris  herself  seemed 
to  bend  her  head  and  stare. 

Some  poet  had  called  Paris  the  mistress  of  Europe. 
She  looked  like  an  old  trollop.  She  was  dirty  and 
dreary,  unpainted  and  unwashed.  The  rain  was  almost 
incessant  and  the  shop  windows  were  soon  denuded  of 
the  few  attractive  novelties  scrambled  together  to  meet 
the  sudden  demand  after  the  long  drought. 

But  under  the  long  arcades  the  curious  sauntering 
throngs  were  sheltered  from  the  rain  and  found  all 
things  in  Paris  novel.  Men  in  the  American  khaki,  from 
generals  to  striplings,  were  there  by  the  hundred;  end 
less  streams  of  young  women  in  the  uniform  of  the  Red 
Cross,  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  the  Salvation  Army ;  British  and 
American  nurses;  members  of  the  fashionable  oeuvres 
artlessly  watching  this  novel  phase  of  Paris ;  the  beauti 
ful  violet  uniform  of  Le  Bien-Etre  du  Blesse ;  girls  with 
worn  faces  and  relaxed  bodies  fresh  from  the  front,  hun 
dreds  of  them,  arriving  daily  in  camions  and  cars,  thank 
ing  heaven  for  the  sudden  cessation  of  work,  sleeping 
heaven  knew  where.  The  American  women  of  the  Com 
mission,  and  others  who,  like  Mrs.  Wallack,  had  invented 
a  plausible  excuse  to  get  to  Paris  and  looked  almost  an 
achronistic  in  their  smart  gowns,  their  fresh  faces,  their 
bright,  curious,  glancing  eyes. 

There  were  also  officers  in  the  uniform  of  Britain,  and 
Alexina  regarded  them  frankly,  with  no  effort  to  deceive 
herself.  The  spirit  of  adventure  was  awake  in  her,  now 
that  the  dark  mood  had  passed,  or  slept.  She  hoped  to 
meet  the  man  of  the  embassy  again,  whether  he  were 
Gathbroke  or  another.  She  had  liked  his  eyes. 

She  had  met  many  charming  and  interesting  men  dur 
ing  the  last  two  and  a  half  years  at  Olive  de  Morsigny  's 
table,  especially  when  Andre,  convalescent,  was  at  home. 
But  their  eyes  had  said  nothing  to  her  whatever,  if  not 
for  the  want  of  trying.  Alexina 's  imagination,  torpid 
for  many  months,  ran  riot.  This  man  might  disappoint 
her,  might  have  nothing  in  him  for  her,  but  she  refused 
for  more  than  a  moment  to  contemplate  anything  so  flat. 
Something  must  come  of  that  adventure,  that  vital  in- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  291 

tensely  personal  moment  when  their  eyes  had  met  above 
flames  so  tiny  the  wonder  was  they  could  see  anything 
but  a  white  blur  on  the  dark.  She  was  as  sure  of  meet 
ing  him  again  as  that  she  trod  on  air  after  she  had 
ordered  a  new  gown  or  bought  an  inordinately  be 
coming  hat.  She  had  forgotten  Mortimer's  existence. 


CHAPTER  V 


/~\NE  day  at  the  Hotel  Crillon  she  thought  she  had 
^^  found  him.  \ 

She  had  passed  the  portals  of  that  fortress  with  some 
delay,  for  the  American  Commission  protected  itself  as 
if  it  dwelt  under  the  shadow  of  imminent  assassination 
and  theft ;  whereas  it  was  merely  exclusive.  The  sentries 
at  the  door  demanded  her  permit,  and  passed  her  in  with 
intense  suspicion  to  the  inner  guard.  This  was  composed 
of  three  polite  but  very  young  lieutenants  in  smart  new 
uniforms  with  no  blight  of  war  on  them,  and  flagrantly 
of  the  American  aristocracy. 

With  these  she  had  less  trouble,  for  they  recognized 
her  social  status  and  accepted  her  explanation  that  she 
had  been  invited  for  tea  with  one  of  the  ladies  of  the 
Commission.  Nevertheless,  they  knew  their  duty  and 
Alexina  was  followed  up  to  the  door  of  her  hostess '  suite 
by  another  young  guardian  who  watched  her  entrance 
through  the  sacred  door  as  carefully  as  if  he  suspected 
her  of  carrying  a  bomb  in  her  muff. 


II 

The  party  numbered  about  thirty,  and  Alexina,  after 
chatting  with  the  few  she  knew,  was  standing  apart  by  a 
small  table  drinking  a  cup  of  tea  with  three  lumps  of 
sugar  in  it  and  consuming  cakes  like  a  greedy  boarding- 
school  girl  home  for  the  holidays,  when  she  caught  sight 
of  a  man  in  the  British  khaki,  a  major  by  his  insignia, 


292          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

a  tall  man,  thin  and  straight,  standing  with  his  back  to 
her  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  room.  He  was  talking  to 
the  host  and  a  small  group  of  men.  She  glimpsed  some 
thing  like  half  of  his  profile  when  he  turned  from  the 
host  for  a  moment.  Like  all  men  in  khaki,  when  not 
pronounced  brunettes,  his  complexion  and  hair  looked 
the  same  color  as  his  uniform. 

Nevertheless  ...  if  she  could  only  see  his  eyes  .  .  . 
he  turned  his  full  profile  .  .  .  she  had  never  glanced  at 
Gathbroke's  profile;  he  had  given  her  no  opportunity! 
.  .  .  Certainly  she  had  not  the  faintest  idea  whether  the 
man  of  the  embassy  had  had  a  snub  nose  or  the  thin 
straight  feature  of  this  man  who  would  have  attracted 
her  attention  in  any  case  if  only  because  he  did  not  carry 
his  shoulders  with  the  disillusioning  obliquity  of  the 
British  Army  .  .  .  why  did  he  not  turn  round  ?  Alexina 
felt  an  impulse  to  throw  her  cup  straight  across  the  room 
at  the  back  of  that  well-shaped  head. 

Suddenly  he  shook  hands  with  his  host,  nodded  to  the 
others  and  left  the  room. 


in 

Alexina  set  her  cup  and  saucer  down  on  the  table, 
f  orebore  to  interrupt  her  hostess,  who  .was  known  to  talk 
steadily  in  order  to  avoid  questions,  and  walked  quickly 
and  deliberately  out  after  him.  It  is  a  primitive  instinct 
in  woman  to  chase  the  male;  but  civilization  having 
initiated  her  into  the  art  of  permitting  him  to  chase  her, 
Alexina  was  merely  bent  upon  giving  this  man  his 
chance  if  the  interest  had  been  mutual  and  existed  be 
yond  the  moment. 

One  lift  was  descending  as  she  reached  the  outer  cor 
ridor  and  the  other  was  closed.  She  ran  down  the  wide 
staircase  as  rapidly  as  a  woman  in  fashionable  skirts 
may.  There  was  no  British  uniform  in  the  hall  below. 


IV 

She  stood  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  under  the  arcade 
before  the  Crillon  waiting  for  a  taxi,  staring  out  into 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          293 

the  dreary  mist  of  rain,  at  the  round  soft  blurs  of  light 
in  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  but  in  no  wise  depressed. 
What  did  it  matter  if  she  had  not  met  him  to-day  ?  The 
conviction  that  she  should  meet  him  before  long  was  as 
strong  as  if  she  were  ever  hopeful  sixteen.  .  .  .  That 
was  the  real  secret  of  her  elation.  She  felt  very  young 
and  entirely  carefree.  She  reflected  that  if  she  had  met 
Gathbroke,  or  whoever  he  might  be,  during  the  last  three 
years  of  the  war  she  would  have  felt  neither  joy  nor 
elation,  however  interested  she  might  have  been.  To  love 
and  dream  and  enjoy  when  men  were  falling  every  min 
ute,  writhing  in  agony,  gasping  out  their  life,  would  have 
seemed  to  her  grossly  unassthetie  if  nothing  worse.  It 
was  not  in  the  picture.  The  primal  impulses  she  had 
experienced  at  fhe  front  to  that  harsh  music  of  Death's 
orchestra  were  natural  enough;  but  safe  (compara 
tively  ! )  in  Paris,  certainly  quiet,  the  romance  of  love 
would  have  been  as  incongruous  and  heartless  as  to  go 
out  to  the  great  hospital  at  Neuilly  and  tango  through  a 
ward  of  dying  men. 

But  now!  She  had  done  her  part.  She  could  do  no 
more.  Men  still  must  die,  but  in  every  comfort,  with 
every  consolation.  And  there  would  be  no  more  recruits. 

She  was  free.    She  was  young,  young,  young  again. 

And  at  this  moment  her  heart  emptied  itself  of  song 
and  sank  like  lead  in  her  breast.  She  pressed  her  muff 
against  her  face  to  hide  the  sudden  grimace  she  was  sure 
contorted  it;  there  had  been  few  moments  in  her  life 
when  she  had  not  been  mistress  of  her  features,  but  this 
was  one  of  them. 

Gora  Dwight  was  walking  rapidly  toward  her. 


CHAPTER  VI 


/^  ORA  did  not  see  her  sister-in-law  for  a  moment  and 
^  Alexina  had  time  to  recover  her  poise  and  make 
sharp  swift  observations.  She  had  not  seen  Gora  for 


294          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

four  years,  nor  exchanged  a  line  with  her.  She  had 
almost  forgotten  her.  The  changes  were  more  striking 
than  in  herself,  who  had  heen  always  slight.  Gora's 
superb  bust  had  disappeared ;  her  face  was  gaunt,  throw 
ing  into  prominence  its  width  and  the  high  cheek  bones. 
Her  eyes  were  enormous  in  her  thin  brown  face;  to 
Alexina  's  excited  imagination  they  looked  like  polar  seas 
under  a  gray  sky  brooding  above  innumerable  dead. 
There  were  lines  about  her  handsome  mouth,  closer  and 
firmer  than  ever.  How  she  must  have  worked,  poor 
thing!  "What  sights,  what  suffering,  what  despair  .  .  . 
four  long  years  of  it.  But  she  had  evidently  had  her 
discharge.  She  wore  an  extremely  well-cut  brown 
tailored  suit,  good  furs,  and  a  small  turban  with  a  red 
wing. 
What  was  she  in  Paris  for?  .  .  What  .  .  what  . 


Gora  saw  her  and  almost  ran  forward,  that  brilliant 
inner  light  that  had  always  been  her  chief  attraction 
breaking  through  her  cold  face  .  .  .  sunlight  sparkling 
on  polar  seas  ...  oh,  yes,  Gora  had  her  charm ! 

11  Alexina!  It  isn't  possible!  I  was  going  to  ask  at 
the  American  Embassy  for  your  address.  I  only  arrived 
last  night. " 

Alexina  had  lowered  her  muff  and  her  face  expressed 
only  the  warmest  surprise  and  welcome.  "Gora!  It's 
top  wonderful!  But  I  suppose  you  couldn't  go  home 
without  seeing  Paris  V9 

"Rather  not!  It's  the  first  chance  I've  had,  too. 
Where  can  we  have  a  talk?" 

"It's  too  late  for  tea.  Come  out  to  my  pension  and 
spend  the  night.  Janet  and  Alice  have  gone  to  Nice  for 
a  few  days'  rest.  You'll  be  hideously  uncomfort 
able " 

*  *  Not  any  more  than  where  I  am — sharing  a  room  with 
three  others.  Where  can  I  telephone?  In  here?" 

"Good  heavens,  no.  Take  a  liberty  with  a  duke,  but 
with  the  American  aristocracy,  never.  Come  down  to 
the  Meurice.  Perhaps  we  can  find  a  cab  there.  This 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          295 

seems  to  be  hopeless.  Everybody  comes  to  the  Crillon 
in  a  private  car  or  a  military  automobile.  Taxis  appear 
to  avoid  it." 

ni 

It  only  took  half  an  hour  to  get  the  telephone  connec 
tion  and  another  to  seize  by  force  a  taxi,  which,  however, 
deposited  them  at  the  Etoile.  The  driver  explained  un- 
amiably  that  he  wanted  his  dinner;  and  a  bribe,  unless 
unthinkable,  would  have  been  useless.  In  these  days  taxi 
drivers  made  fifty  francs  a  day  in  tips,  and,  as  a  French 
man  knows  exactly  what  he  wants  and  calculates  to  a 
nicety  when  he  has  enough,  valuing  rest  and  nutriment 
above  even  the  delights  of  gouging  foolish  Americans, 
Alexina  knew  that  it  would  be  useless  to  argue  and  did 
not  even  waste  energy  in  announcing  her  opinion  of  him 
for  taking  a  fare  under  false  pretenses.  There  was  no 
other  cab  in  sight  and  they  walked  the  rest  of  the  way. 
But  both  were  inured  to  hardships  and  took  their  mis 
hap  good-naturedly,  trudging  the  long  distance  under 
their  umbrellas. 

IV 

After  a  very  bad  dinner  in  an  airless  room  as  frugally 
lighted  they  made  themselves  comfortable  in  Alexina 's 
room  over  the  oil  stove  she  had  bought,  and  supplied 
through  Olive's  influence  with  the  higher  powers.  She 
took  off  her  street  clothes  and  put  on  a  thick  dressing 
gown,  giving  her  sister-in-law  a  quilted  red  wrapper  of 
Janet's,  which  threw  some  warmth  into  Gora's  pale 
cheeks.  She  looked  comfortable,  almost  happy,  as  she 
smoked  her  cigarette  in  the  arm-chair. 

Alexina  curled  up  on  the  bed. 

"Now,  Gora,"  she  said  brightly,  "give  an  account  of 
yourself." 

Gora  did  not  reply  for  a  moment  and  Alexina  exam 
ining  her  again  came  to  the  conclusion  that  she  had  been 
spared  some  of  the  horrors  of  the  front.  As  a  head  nurse 
her  responsibilities  had  been  too  heavy  for  philanderings, 
and  having  the  literary  imagination  rather  than  the  per- 


296  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

sonal  she  had  no  doubt  consigned  it  to  a  water-tight 
compartment  and  converted  herself  into  a  machine. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  can  talk  about  it,"  she  said. 
' '  I  feel  much  like  the  men.  It  is  too  close.  I  am  thank 
ful  that  I  had  the  experience ;  not  only  to  have  been  of 
actual  service,  indispensable,  as  every  good  nurse  was, 
but  to  have  been  a  part  of  that  colossal  drama.  But  I 
am  even  more  thankful  that  it  is  over  and  if  I  can  possi 
bly  avoid  it  I'll  never  nurse  again." 

' '  I  suppose  you  have  had  no  time  to  write  ? ' ' 

' '  I  should  think  not !  During  the  brief  leaves  of  ab 
sence  I  spent  most  of  the  time  in  bed.  But  I  have  an 
immense  amount  of  material.  I  have  no  idea  how  much 
fiction  has  been  written  about  the  war ;  there  might  have 
been  none,  so  far  as  I  have  had  time  to  discover.  I've 
barely  read  a  newspaper." 

"The  only  reason  I  want  to  go  back  to  America  is  to 
hear  the  news.  I  see  a  New  York  newspaper  once  in  a 
while,  and  it  is  plain  they  have  it  all.  We  have  next  to 
none  in  Europe,  in  France  at  all  events.  Shall  you  write 
your  stories  here  or  go  back  to  California?  That  would 
give  you  the  necessary  perspective,  I  should  think." 

Alexina's  eyes  were  fixed  upon  an  execrable  print 
many  inches  above  the  footboard,  and  Gora,  glancing  at 
her,  reflected  that  she  was  as  beautiful  as  ever  in  spite 
of  her  loss  of  flesh  and  color.  Any  one  would  be  with 
eyes  that  were  like  stars  when  they  looked  at  you  and  a 
Murillo  madonna's  when  she  lifted  them  the  fraction  of 
an  inch.  Astute  as  she  was  she  had  never  penetrated 
below  the  surface  of  Alexina,  nor  suspected  the  use  she 
made  of  those  pliable  orbs.  Alexina  had  such  an  abun 
dance  of  surface  it  occurred  to  few  people  that  she 
might  be  both  subtle  and  deep. 

"I  ...  don't  know.  ...  I  rather  fear  losing  the  at 
mosphere  .  .  .  the  immediate  stimulation.  Shall  you  go 
home,  now  that  you  are  free  ? ' ' 

"I  wonder.     Could  I  stand  it?    I  have  longed  for  a  -1 
rest — ached  would  be  a  better  word.  .  .  .  This  last  year 
has  been  full  of  both  nervous  strain  and  desperate  monot 
ony.     Nineteen-seventeen  was  bad  enough  in  another 
way :  the  internal  defeatist  campaign,  the  constant  men- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          297 

ace  of  mutiny,  Soviets  in  the  army,  strikes  in  the  muni 
tion  towns, — all  the  rest  of  it.  ...  But  could  one  stand 
California  after  such  an  experience?  I  know  they  have 
done  splendid  work  since  we  entered  the  war,  but  I  know 
also  that  they  will  immediately  subside  into  exactly  what 
they  were  before,  settle  down  with  a  long  sigh  of  relief 
to  enjoy  life  and  forget  that  war  ever  was.  It  could 
not  be  otherwise  in  that  climate.  With  that  abundance. 
That  remoteness.  .  .  .  There  seems  no  place  out  there 
for  me.  A  decorator  after  this!  What  funny  little  re 
sources  we  thought  out  in  those  days.  ...  I  do  not  see 
myself  fitting  in  anywhere.  Tom  wants  to  buy  Ballinger 
House  for  Maria  and  I  fancy  I  '11  let  him  have  it.  I  can 't 
keep  it  up  unaided  and  I  might  as  well  sell  as  rent  it. 
He  and  Judge  Lawton  would  invest  the  money  and  I 
should  have  quite  a  decent  income.  As  for  Mortimer 
I  never  want  to  see  him  again.  He  has  not  done  one 
thing  for  this  war — he  is  utterly  contemptible " 

"I've  long  since  given  up  criticizing  Mortimer.  My 
father  once  sized  him  up.  He  hasn't  an  ounce  of  brain. 
He'd  like  to  be  quite  different,  but  you  can  stretch 
Nature 's  equipment  so  far  and  no  farther.  He  stretched 
his  until  it  suddenly  snapped  back  and  found  itself 
shrunken  to  less  than  half  its  natural  size.  Vale  Morti 
mer.  Let  him  rest.  Why  don't  you  divorce  him?  No 
doubt  he  has  found  some  one  else " 

"I  couldn't  divorce  him  on  that  count,  for  I  told  him 
repeatedly  to  console  himself.  It  wouldn't  be  playing 
the  game.  Of  course  there  are  other  grounds.  It  would 
be  easy  enough.  But  our  family  has  a  strong  aversion 
to  divorce.  And  a  unique  record.  .  .  .  Not  that  that 
would  stop  me  if  I  found  any  one  I  really  wanted  to 
marry.  Nothing  would  stop  me,  in  fact. ' ' 

Gora  glanced  at  her  quickly,  arrested  by  something  in 
her  voice.  She  had  already  noticed  that  Alexina  's  limpid 
musical  tones  had  deepened.  Just  now  they  rang  with 
something  of  the  menace  of  a  deep-toned  bell. 

"Have  you  found  him?"  she  asked  smiling.  "If 
there  are  obstacles,  so  much  the  more  interesting.  I 
don't  fancy  that  romantic  streak  in  your  nature  which 
permitted  you  to  idealize  Mortimer  has  quite  dried  up. 


298          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

Once  romantic  always  romantic — I  deduce  from  human 
nature  as  I  have  studied  it. ' ' 

' '  Well  ...  I  am  rather  afraid  of  romance.  Certainly 
I'd  never  be  blinded  again.  A  man  might  be  nine  parts 
demi-god  and  if  I  knew — and  I  should  know — that  there 
was  no  companionship  in  him  for  me  I  wouldn't  marry 
him/' 

"That  I  believe."  Alexina  was  once  more  regarding 
the  print.  Gora  wondered  if  sex  would  influence  her  at 
all. 

"But  have  you  met  him?  You  were  always  an  inter 
esting  child  and  you  Ve  roused  my  curiosity. ' ' 

"No  .  .  .  yes  ...  I  don't  know  .  .  .  later  perhaps 
1 11  tell  you  something.  But  I  'm  far  more  interested  in 
you.  Have  you  been  in  France  all  this  time  ? ' ' 

' '  Oh,  no.  I  was  in  Rouen  for  a  year.  Then  I  was  in 
hospitals  in  England  until  the  German  Drive  began  in 
March  when  I  was  sent  over  again.  Oh,  God!  what 
sights!  what  sounds!  what  smells!"  She  huddled  into 
her  chair  and  stared  at  the  dull  flame  behind  the  little 
door  of  the  stove. 

"Oh,  I  know  them  all.  Think  of  something  else. 
Surely  you  met — but  literally — hundreds  of  officers,  and 
some  must  have  interested  you.  The  British  officer  at 
best  is  a  superb  creature — if  he  would  only  stand  up 
straight.  I  saw  one  at  the  Crillon  to-day  whose  good 
American  shoulders  made  me  stare  at  him  quite  rudely. ' ' 

"Who  was  he?" 

"Haven't  the  faintest  idea.  I  only  saw  his  back,  any 
way.  Surely  you  must  have  been  more  than  passing 
interested  in  one  or  two." 

'  *  I  am  not  susceptible.  And  nursing  is  not  conducive 
to  romance." 

"But  you  never  were  romantic,  Gora  dear.  And  you 
are  good-looking  in  your  odd  way.  And  that  was  your 
great  chance/" 

"Well,  I'm  afraid  I  was  too  busy  or  too  tired  to  take 
it.  Now  .  .  .  perhaps  .  .  .  but  I'm  afraid  I  don't  in 
spire  men  with  either  romance  or  passion.  They  like 
me  and  are  grateful — that  is,  as  grateful  as  an  English 
man  can  be;  they  take  most  things  for  granted." 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          299 

"The  French  are  so  grateful,  poor  dears.  I  loved 
them  all.  After  all  ...  Frenchmen  .  .  ."  Her  voice 
grew  dreamy. 

Again  Gora  threw  her  an  amused  glance.  ' '  You  must 
have  met  many  of  them  at  your  friend,  Madame  de  Mor- 
signy's,  and  under  far  more  attractive  conditions  than 
any  man  can  hope  for  in  a  sick  bed.  ...  I  can't  im 
agine  any  more  appropriate  destiny  for  you  .  .  .  you 
should  be  Madame  la  duchesse  at  the  very  least." 

' '  Not  money  enough,  and  besides  they  've  all  grown  so 
religious,  or  think  they  have,  they  wouldn't  stand  for 
divorce.  Anyhow  it  would  be  so  hard  on  *  The  Family ' ! 
.  .  .  Still  .  .  .  But  why,  Gora  dear,  do  you  depreciate 
yourself  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  just  the  type  that 
a  certain  sort  of  man  would  appreciate — fall  in  love  with. 
I  've  heard  even  American  men  who  play  about  in  society 
comment  on  your  looks,  different  as  you  are  from  sport 
and  fluff  and  come-hitherness ;  and  you  only  need  a  few 
months'  rest  to  look  like  your  old  self.  I  should  think 
that  a  highly  intelligent  Englishman  would  find  you 
irresistible,  especially  if  you  had  shown  your  womanly 
side  when  he  had  holes  in  him.  I  Ve  always  had  an  idea 
that  Englishmen  weren't  nearly  as  afraid  of  intellectual 
women  as  American  men  are. ' ' 

"That's  true  enough.  But  I  doubt  if  there  are  any 
men  more  susceptible  to  beauty,  or  quite  as  lustful  after 
it,  no  matter  how  romantic  they  may  think  they  are 
feeling.  I  've  talked  to  a  good  many  of  them  in  the  past 
four  years,  and  for  six  months  I  was  in  charge  of  a 
convalescent  hospital  in  Kent.  I  think  I've  pretty  thor 
oughly  plumbed  the  Englishman.  They  found  me  sym 
pathetic  all  right,  forgot  their  facial  shyness  and  inad 
vertently  gave  me  much  valuable  material.  But  I  saw 
no  indication  that  I  made  any  sex  appeal  to  them  what 
ever.  ' ' 

"Not  one?    Not  ever?" 

Gora  gave  a  slight  withdrawing  movement  as  if  some 
thing  sacred  had  been  touched.  But  she  answered: 
"Oh  .  .  .  some  day  I  may  have  something  to  tell  you. 
.  .  .  You  said  much  the  same  thing  to  me  a  little  while 
ago.  Tell  me  now. ' ' 


300          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

Alexina  turned  over  on  her  elbow  to  beat  up  her  pil 
lows.  Then  she  answered  lightly  but  firmly:  "Not 
unless  you  promise  to  do  likewise.  Mine  is  such  a  little 
thing  anyhow.  I  know  by  the  expression  of  your  face — 
just  now — that  yours  is  the  real  thing.  Is  he  in  Paris  ? ' ' 

1  ( I  'm  .  .  .  not  sure.  .  .  .  Yes,  there  is  something  .  .  . 
the  conditions  are  very  peculiar  .  .  .  not  at  all  what 
you  think  .  .  .  there  is  so  much  more  to  it.  ...  No, 
I  don't  think  I  can  tell  you." 

A  fortnight  ago  Alexina  could  have  lifted  her  eyes  and 
uttered  Gathbroke  's  name  as  if  groping  through  a  jungle 
of  memories.  But  she  could  no  more  force  his  name 
through  her  lips  now  than  she  could  have  laid  bare  all 
that  was  in  her  tumultuous  soul.  It  was,  in  fact,  all  she 
could  do  to  keep  from  screaming.  For  a  moment  her 
excitement  was  so  intense  that  she  jumped  from  the  bed 
and  ran  over  and  opened  the  window. 

' '  This  room  gets  intolerably  stuffy.  That  is  the  worst 
of  it — freeze  or  stifle. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  have  been  cold  so  long!  Please  don't  leave  it 
open.  That 's  a  darling. ' ' 


Alexina  closed  it  with  an  amiable  smile.  "What 
would  you  do,  Gora,  if  you  were  really  mad  about  a 
man  ?  Have  him  at  any  cost  ?  Annihilate  anything  that 
stood  in  your  way?  Anybody,  I  mean." 

An  appalling  light  came  into  Gora's  pale  eyes  as  she 
turned  them,  at  first  in  some  surprise,  on  her  sister-in- 
law:  "Yes,  if  I  thought  he  cared  .  .  .  could  be  made 
to  care  if  I  had  the  chance  ...  if  another  woman  tried 
to  get  him  away  .  .  .  yes,  I  don 't  fancy  I  'd  stop  at  any 
thing.  .  .  .  Even  if  I  finally  were  forced  to  believe  that 
he  never  could  care  for  me  in  that  way,  the  only  way 
that  counts  with  men — at  first,  anyway  .  .  .  well,  I  be 
lieve  I  'd  fight  to  the  death  just  the  same.  When  you  've 
waited  for  thirty-four  years  .  .  .  well,  you  know  what 
you  want !  Better  die  fighting  than  live  on  interminably 
for  nothing  .  .  .  less  than  nothing.  ...  I  can't  tell  you 
any  more.  Please  don 't  ask  me. ' ' 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          301 

"Of  course  not.  I'll  tell  you  my  little  story."  And 
she  gave  a  rapid  vivid  account  of  the  remarkable  scene 
at  the  Embassy.  She  concluded  abruptly:  "Do  you 
think  one  could  tell  that  a  man's  eyes  were  hazel — the 
golden-brown  hazel — across  a  pitch  dark  room  above  the 
flame  of  a  briquet  ? ' ' 

"Hazel?"  Alexina  was  standing  behind  Gora.  She 
saw  her  body  stiffen. 

"I  could  have  vowed  they  were  hazel.  And  that  he 
was  English.  He  also  reminded  me  of  some  one  I  must 
have  met  somewhere  or  other  .  .  .  one  meets  so  many 
.  .  .  possibly  it  was  only  a  fancy." 

[ '  You  didn  't  see  him  after  the  lights  went  on  again  ? ' ' 

' '  They  didn 't.  Only  candles.  We  were  all  too  anxious 
to  get  away,  anyhow.  I  fancy  the  King  was  in  a  hurry 
to  get  the  ambassador  upstairs  and  tell  him  what  he 
thought  of  him " 

"Don't  be  flippant.  You  always  did  have  a  madden 
ing  habit  of  being  flippant  at  the  wrong  time.  Haven't 
you  seen  him  again  anywhere  ? ' ' 

"I've  walked  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  and  lunched  at  the 
Ritz  looking  for  him ;  but  I  've  never  had  even  a  glimpse 
— unless  that  was  his  back  I  saw  at  the  Crillon  to-day. 
If  I  saw  his  eyes  I  'd  know  in  a  minute. ' ' 

'  *  Why  should  you  think  it  was  his  back  ? ' ' 

1 '  Some  men  have  expression  in  the  back  of  their  head. 
And  I  just  had  an  idea — fantastic,  no  doubt — that  my 
particular  Englishman  stands  up  straight. ' ' 

"Yours?" 

"Yes,  I'm  feeling  quite  too  fearfully  romantic.  I'm 
sure  he's  looking  for  me  as  hard  as  I  am  for  him.  And 
if  I  find  him  I'll  keep  him." 

She  saw  Gora's  long  brown  hands  slowly  clench  until 
they  looked  like  steel.  She  glanced  at  her  own  slim  white 
hands.  They  were  quite  as  strong  if  more  ornamental. 
She  yawned  politely. 

"I'm  not  so  romantic  as  sleepy.  I  know  that  you 
must  be  dead  after  your  journey.  They  say  it's  more 
trouble  to  travel  to  Paris  from  London  than  from  New 
York.  The  girls  won't  be  back  for  a  week.  You  must 
get  your  things  to-morrow  and  come  out  here.  I  won't 


302          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

hear  of  your  living  in  Paris  discomfort  with  these  two 
empty  rooms/' 

"That  is  good  of  you.  Yes,  I'll  come.  And  perhaps 
your  landlady,  or  whatever  they  call  them  here,  could 
put  me  up  later.  Now  that  I  have  come  to  Paris  I  intend 
to  see  it.  I  believe  some  of  the  great  galleries  and 
museums  are  to  be  reopened. ' ' 

"Andre  will  arrange  it  if  they're  not.  How  you  will 
enjoy  it  with  your  sensitiveness  to  all  the  arts.  Take 
this  candle  in  case  the  bulb  is  burnt  out.  It  usually  is." 


VI 

Gora  had  risen.  Her  face  wore  an  expression  both 
puzzled  and  grim;  but  she  and  Alexina  as  they  said 
good-night  looked  full  into  each  other 's  eyes  without  fal 
tering.  And  Alexina  had  never  looked  more  ingenuous. 

Perhaps  that  dim  idea  .  .  .  that  she  had  thrown  down 
a  challenge  .  .  .  had  come  out  in  the  open  for  a  moment 
.  .  .  insolently?  .  .  .  honestly?  .  .  .  She  must  be  com 
pletely  fagged  out  after  that  abominable  trip  to  have 
such  absurd  fancies.  She  took  her  candle;  and  dis 
posed  herself  in  Janet's  bed,  between  four  walls  that 
gave  her  an  unexpected  and  heavenly  privacy,  with  a 
deep  sigh  of  gratitude,  dismissing  fantasies. 


VII 

During  the  next  ten  days  Alexina  kept  as  close  to 
Gora  as  was  possible  in  the  circumstances.  She  had 
made  many  engagements  and  not  all  of  them  were  social ; 
there  were  still  gowns  to  be  fitted,  committee  meetings 
to  attend.  Twice  Gora  appeared  to  have  risen  with  the 
dawn,  and  she  vanished  for  the  day.  Nevertheless,  it 
grew  increasingly  evident  to  Alexina 's  alert  and  pene 
trating  vision  that  Gora  was  neither  peaceful  nor  happy  ; 
therefore  it  was  safe  to  assume  that  she  had  not  found 
Gathbroke.  For  some  reason  she  had  not  inquired  at 
the  British  Embassy.  Or  a  letter  to  its  care  had  failed 
to  reach  him.  Possibly  he  was  enjoying  himself  without 
formalities. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  303 

She  took  Gora  twice  to  the  Kitz  to  luncheon  and  on 
several  afternoons  to  tea.  But  it  was  a  mob  of  Ameri 
cans  and  members  of  the  various  Commissions.  A  bril 
liant  sight,  but  not  in  the  least  satisfactory.  It  was 
quite  patent  from  Gora's  ever  traveling  eyes  that  she 
sought  and  never  found. 

Therefore  when  Olive  asked  Alexina  to  go  to  one  of 
the  towns  where  the  oeuvre  had  a  branch  and  attend  to 
an  important  matter  that  Mrs.  Wallack  was  far  too  much 
of  a  novice  to  be  entrusted  with,  she  agreed  at  once. 
She  experienced  a  growing  desire  to  get  away  by  herself 
— away  from  Paris — away  from  Gora.  She  wanted  to 
think.  What  if  Gora  did  meet  him  first?  She  would 
be  but  the  more  certain  to  meet  him  herself.  Moreover 
.  .  .  give  Gora  a  sporting  chance. 

Janet  and  Alice  had  written  from  Nice  that  they 
might  be  detained  for  some  time.  Gora  unpacked  her 
trunk  and  settled  down  in  the  pension  with  that  air  of 
indestrucible  patience  that  had  always  made  her  formid 
able.  She  was  not  one  of  Life's  favorites,  but  she  had 
wrung  prizes  from  that  unamiable  deity  more  than  once. 

Alexina  speculated.  Gora  had  all  the  brains  that 
Mortimer  lacked  and  commanding  traits  of  character. 
She  was  so  striking  in  appearance  even  now  that  people 
often  turned  and  stared  at  her.  But  unless  she  pos 
sessed  the  potent  spell  of  woman  for  man  all  her  gifts 
would  avail  her  nothing  in  this  tragic  crisis  of  her  life. 
Did  she  possess  it  ?  No  woman  could  answer.  Certainly 
Alexina  had  never  seen  evidence  of  it  even  in  Gora's 
youth;  although  to  be  sure  her  opportunities  had  been 
few.  Still  .  .  .  when  a  woman  possesses  the  most  subtle 
and  powerful  of  all  the  fascinations  men  are  drawn  to  it, 
no  matter  how  dark  the  sky  or  high  the  barriers.  Noth 
ing  is  keener  than  the  animal  essence.  Still  .  .  .  she  had 
heard  that  some  women  developed  it  later  than  others. 
Alexina  feared  nothing  else. 

She  fancied  that  Gora  took  leave  of  her  with  a  little 
indrawn  sigh  of  relief.  It  was  with  difficulty  that  she 
repressed  her  own. 


304          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  VIII 


AN  this  be  Lieutenant  James  Kirkpatrick  ? ' ' 

Kirkpatriek    wheeled  about  and  snatched  off  his 
cap. 

"Mrs.  D  wight,  by  all  that's  holy!  I  never  expected 
any  such  luck  as  this ! ' ' 

They  shook  hands  warmly  in  the  deserted  square 
which  had  been  a  shambles  during  the  first  battle  of  the 
Marne,  and  in  the  days  of  Caesar  and  Attila,  of  Napoleon 
the  Great  and  Napoleon  the  Little.  To-day  it  was  as 
gray  and  peaceful,  its  houses  as  aloof  and  haughty  as  if 
war  had  never  been.  It  was  a  false  impression,  however, 
for  it  was  the  paralysis  of  war  it  expressed,  not  even  the 
normal  peace  of  a  dull  provincial  town. 

"I've  often  wondered  about  you,"  said  Alexina. 
* '  But  I  've  been  working  with  the  French  Army  and  had 
no  way  of  finding  out.  You  don't  look  as  if  you  had 
been  wounded." 

"Nary  scratch,  and  in  the  thick  of  it.  My,  but  it's 
good  to  see  you  again."  He  stared  at  her,  his  face 
flushed  and  his  breath  short.  Then  he  asked  abruptly: 
"When  do  you  think  we're  goin'  home?" 

Alexina  laughed  merrily.  "That  is  the  first  question 
every  officer  or  private  I  have  met  since  the  Armistice 
has  asked  me.  I  should  feel  greatly  flattered,  but  I 
fancy  the  question,  being  always  on  the  top  of  your 
minds,  simply  bubbles  off. ' ' 

"You  bet.  But — Jimminy!  I'm  glad  to  see  you. 
You're  lookin'  thin,  though.  Been  workin',  too,  I'll 
bet." 

1 1  Oh,  yes — and  all  your  old  class  has  worked ;  most  of 
them  over  here.  Mrs.  Cheever  couldn't  come,  as  her 
husband  is  in  the  army.  But  she's  worked  hard  in 
California. ' ' 

"I  believe  you.  The  women  have  come  up  to  the 
scratch,  no  doubt  of  that.  Although  some  of  them! 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          305 

Good  Lord!  This  isn't  my  usual  language  when  speak 
ing  of  them.  But  if  some  came  over  to  do  just  about  as 
they  damn  please,  the  others  strike  the  balance,  and  on 
the  whole  I  think  more  of  women  than  I  did. ' ' 

1  'That's  good  news.  But  you  mustn't  blame  them  too 
severely.  I  mean  those  that  really  came  over  with  a 
single  purpose  and  were  not  proof  against  the  forcing 
house  of  war.  As  for  the  others  .  .  .  well,  a  good  many 
followed  their  men  over,  others  came  after  excitement, 
others,  as  you  say,  to  do  as  they  pleased,  with  no  ques 
tions  asked — possibly!  I  shouldn't  take  enough  interest 
in  them  to  criticize  them  if  they  hadn't  used  the  war- 
relief  organizations,  from  the  Bed  Cross  down  to  the 
smallest  oeuvre,  as  a  pretext  to  get  over,  and  then  calmly 
throw  us  down — the  oeuvres,  I  mean.  Mine  was  'done' 
several  times.  But  let  us  be  good  healthy  optimists  such 
as  our  country  loves  and  remind  ourselves  that  the 
worthy  outnumber  the  unworthy — and  that  the  really 
bad  would  have  gone  the  same  way  sooner  or  later." 

1  'It  goes.  Optimism  for  me  for  ever  more  once  I  get 
out  of  France. ' ' 

n 

They  had  crossed  the  square  and  were  walking  down  a 
narrow  crooked  street  as  gray  as  if  the  dust  of  ages 
were  in  its  old  walls.  Alexina  looked  at  him  curiously. 
He  had  never  had  what  might  be  called  a  soft  and  tender 
countenance,  but  now  it  looked  like  cast-iron  covered 
with  red  rust,  and  his  eyes  were  more  like  bits  of  the 
same  metal,  blackened  and  polished,  than  ever.  His 
youth  had  gone.  There  were  deep  vertical  lines  in  his 
face.  His  mouth  was  cynical.  His  bullet  head,  shaved 
until  only  a  cap  of  black  stiff  hair  remained  on  top,  and 
presumably  safe  from  assault,  by  no  means  added  to  the 
general  attractiveness  of  his  style.  He  was  straighter, 
more  compact,  than  before,  however,  and  his  uniform  at 
least  did  not  have  the  truly  abominable  cut  of  the 
private. 

"What  do  you  think  of  war  as  war?"  she  asked. 

"Sherman  for  me.    Not  that  I  didn't  enjoy  sticking 


306          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

Germans  with  the  best  of  'em  when  my  blood  was  up. 
But  the  rest  of  it— God  Almighty!" 

They  stopped  before  a  solid  double  door  in  a  high 
wall.  "Will  you  come  and  take  tea  with  me  this  after 
noon?  I  am  staying  here  for  a  few  days.  I'm  afraid 
I  can't  offer  you  sugar,  or  cakes " 

"111  bring  the  sugar  along.  I'm  in  barracks  just  out 
side  and  solid  with  the  commissary." 

' '  Heavens,  what  a  windfall !    You  '11  be  sure  to  come  ? ' ' 

"Won't  I,  just?  Expect  me  at  four-thirty."  He 
lifted  his  cap  from  his  comical  head,  then  saluted,  swung 
on  his  heel  and  marched  off,  swinging  both  arms  from 
the  shoulders  and  looking  a  fine  martial  figure  of  a  man. 

"But  still  the  same  old  Kirkpatrick, "  thought  Alex- 
ina.  "I  wonder  if  he  will  go  Bolshevik?" 


m 

Her  ring  was  answered  by  the  old  woman  who  took 
care  of  the  house  and  Alexina  entered  the  wild  garden. 
There  was  an  acre  of  it,  but  it  had  been  so  long  uncared 
for  that  it  looked  like  a  jungle  caught  between  four  high 
gray  walls.  It  was  the  property  of  one  of  the  French 
members  of  the  oeuvre  and  was  used  as  a  storehouse  for 
hospital  supplies  and  as  headquarters  for  Alexina  when 
business  brought  her  to  this  part  of  the  Marne  valley. 
She  had  been  here  several  times  during  the  siege  of 
Verdun  in  nineteen-sixteen  when  her  bed  had  quivered  all 
night,  and  once  a  big  gun  had  been  trained  on  the  city 
and  a  shell  had  fallen  near  the  headquarters  of  the  staff. 
Last  night  she  had  lain  awake  wondering  if  she  did  not 
miss  the  sound  of  the  distant  guns,  as  she  had  in  Passy 
where  there  was  no  noisy  traffic  to  take  their  place. 
There  is  a  certain  amount  of  morbidity  in  all  highly 
strung  imaginative  minds,  and  although  she  had  de 
veloped  no  love  for  Big  Bertha  nor  for  the  sound  of  high 
firing  guns  attacking  avions  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
there  had  been  something  in  that  steady  boom  of  cannon 
whose  glare  stained  the  horizon  that  had  thrilled  and 
excited  her. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          307 

IV 

On  the  right  of  the  main  hall  of  the  house  was  the 
room  she  used  as  an  office ;  the  dining-room  was  opposite ; 
the  salon  ran  the  whole  length  at  the  back.  This  was 
quite  a  beautiful  room  furnished  in  the  style  of  the  last 
Bourbons,  and  its  long  windows  opened  upon  a  stone 
terrace  leading  down  into  what  was  still  a  picturesque 
garden  in  spite  of  its  neglect.  There  were  three  fine 
oaks,  and  the  chestnut  trees  along  the  wall  shut  off  the 
town  from  even  the  upper  windows. 

The  oeuvre  always  managed  to  keep  a  load  of  wood 
in  the  cave  and  to-day  the  concierge  had  raised  the  tem 
perature  of  the  salon  to  sixty-five  degrees  Fahrenheit. 
Alexina  cleared  a  table  and  told  the  woman  to  set  it  for 
tea,  then  went  upstairs  to  change  her  dress.  As  she  had 
made  her  trip  in  one  of  the  automobiles  belonging  to  the 
oeuvre  she  had  been  able  to  bring  her  little  stove,  and 
her  bedroom  was  also  warm. 

She  had  also  brought  one  of  her  new  gowns,  knowing 
that  she  should  receive  visits  from  several  French  officers, 
and  she  concluded  to  put  it  on  for  Kirkpatrick.  He  was 
worth  the  delicate  compliment;  moreover  it  almost  ob 
literated  the  ravages  of  war,  for  it  was  of  periwinkle 
blue  velvet  edged  with  fur  about  the  high  square  of  the 
neck  and  at  the  wrists  of  the  long  sleeves:  in  these  days 
it  was  wise  to  revert  to  the  fashions  of  the  centuries 
when  palaces  and  houses  alike  were  cold  and  gowns  were 
made  for  comfort  as  well  as  fashion.  To  complete  the 
proportions  it  had  a  train  and  the  sleeves  were  slightly 
puffed.  Alexina  was  quite  aware  that  she  "looked  like 
a  picture ' '  in  it. 

She  still  wore  her  hair  brushed  softly  back  and  coiled 
low  at  the  base  of  her  beautiful  curved  head.  Her  pearls 
were  the  only  jewels  she  had  brought  to  France  and  she 
always  wore  them.  She  sighed  as  she  looked  at  the  vision 
in  the  mirror.  For  Kirkpatrick!  But  she  was  used  to 
the  irony  of  lif e* 


308          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  IX 


1_IE  arrived  promptly  at  half-past  four  and  in  his 
**  capacious  hands  were  three  packages  which  ar 
rested  her  eyes  at  once.  He  presented  them  one  by  one. 

' '  Sugar.  Loaf  of  white  bread.  Candy — I  'm  also  solid 
with  one  of  the  doctors. ' ' 

' '  I  feel  like  pinching  myself.  White  bread ! — I  've  only 
tasted  it  twice  in  two  years — both  times  at  the  Crillon. 
And  candy — not  a  sight  of  it  for  more  than  that.  I 
don't  like  the  heavy  French  chocolates,  which  were  all 
one  could  get  when  one  could  get  anything.  I  shall  eat 
at  least  half  and  take  the  other  half  back  to  Gora. ' ' 

"Miss  Dwight?  She's  done  good  work,  I'll  bet.  Just 
in  her  line.  Somehow,  I  don't  see  you — What  did  you 
dot" 

He  watched  her  hungrily  as  she  made  the  tea,  sitting 
in  a  gilt  and  brocaded  chair,  whose  high  tarnished  back 
seemed  to  frame  her  dark  head. 

"Oh,  Lord! "he  sighed. 

"What  is  it?" 

"Don't  ask  me.  What've  you  been  doing!  Yes,  I'll 
drink  tea  to  please  you. ' ' 

"I  nursed  at  first — as  an  auxiliary,  of  course — what 
is  the  matter  ? ' ' 

"Can't  bear  to  think  of  it.  I  hope  you've  not  been 
doin'  that  for  four  years!" 

* '  Oh,  no.  I  've  been  at  work  with  a  war-relief  organi 
zation  in  Paris  most  of  the  time.  That  was  too  monot 
onous  to  talk  about,  and,  thank  heaven,  this  will  proba 
bly  end  my  connection  with  it.  I  am  much  more  inter 
ested  to  know  how  the  war  has  affected  you.  Are  you 
still  a  socialist?" 

"Ain't  I!" 

1 '  Not  going  Bolshevik,  I  hope. ' ' 

"Not  so's  you'd  notice  it.  I  want  changes  all  right 
and  more'n  ever,  but  I've  had  enough  of  blood  and  fury 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          309 

and  mix-ups  without  copying  them  murdering  skally- 
wags.  That's  all  they  are.  Just  out  for  loot  and  re 
venge  and  not  sense  enough  to  know  that  to-morrow 
there'll  be  no  loot,  and  revenge '11  come  from  the  oppo 
site  direction.  I  may  have  been  in  hell  but  my  head's 
screwed  on  in  the  same  place." 

"I  wondered  .  .  .  I've  heard  so  many  stories  about 
the  grievances  of  the  soldiers." 

"  Every  last  one  of  'em  got  a  grievance.  Hate  their 
officers,  and  often  reason  enough.  Hate  the  discipline. 
Hate  the  food.  Hate  the  neglect  in  hospital  when  the 
flu  is  raging.  Hate  gettin'  no  letters,  and  as  like  as  not 
no  pay  and  no  tobacco.  Hate  bein'  gouged  by  the 
French  like  they  were  by  the  good  Americans  when  they 
were  in  camp  on  the  other  side.  Hate  every  last  thing  a 
man  just  naturally  would  hate  when  he  is  livin'  in  a 
filthy  trench,  or  even  camp,  and  homesick  in  the  bar 
gain.  .  .  .  But  as  for  mass-dissatisfaction — not  a  bit  of 
it.  Loyal  as  they  make  'em.  Laugh  at  Bolshevik  propa 
ganda  just  like  they  laughed  at  Hun  propaganda.  They 
just  naturally  seem  to  hate  every  other  race,  allied  or 
enemy,  and  that  makes  them  so  all-fired  American  they  're 
fit  to  bust.  Of  course  there's  plenty  of  skallywags — 
caught  in  the  draft — and  just  waitin'  to  get  home  and 
turn  loose  on  the  community.  But  in  the  good  old 
style:  burglars,  highwaymen,  yeggs.  Not  a  new  frill. 
Europe  hasn't  a  thing  on  the  good  old  American  crimi 
nal  brand.  They  fought  well,  too.  Any  man  does  who 's 
a  man  at  all.  But  Lord !  they'll  cut  loose  when  they  get 
back.  Every  wild  bad  trait  they  was  born  with  multi 
plied  by  one  hundred  and  fifty  .  .  .  before  I  go  any 
further  I  want  to  warn  you  that  I  'm  liable  to  break  out 
into  bad  language  any  minute.  It  gets  to  be  a  kind  of 
habit  in  the  army  to  swear  every  other  word  like. ' ' 

' '  Don 't  mind  me, ' '  said  Alexina  dryly.  ' '  After  I  was 
put  out  of  my  hotel  I  managed  to  get  a  room  in  one  of 
the  hotels  on  the  Rue  de  Eivoli  for  two  nights  before  I 
found  my  pension  in  Passy.  The  walls  were  thin.  The 
room  next  to  mine  was  occupied  by  two  American  officers 
and  the  one  beyond  by  two  more.  They  talked  back  and 
forth  with  apparently  no  thought  of  the  possibility  of 


310          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

being  overheard.  Such  language !  And  not  only  swear 
words — although  one  of  these  to  two  of  any.  Such  ad 
ventures  as  they  related !  Such  frankness !  Such  plain 
undiluted  Anglo-Saxon !  Fancy  a  girl  with  all  her  illu 
sions  fresh,  and  worshiping  some  heroic  figure  in  khaki, 
listening  to  such  a  revelation  of  the  nether  side  of  man 's 
life!" 

' '  Men  are  hogs,  all  right.  I  don 't  like  the  idea  of  your 
having  heard  such  things. ' '  Kirkpatrick  scowled  heavily. 

"Nor  did  I.  But  I  had  no  cotton  to  put  in  my  ears. 
I  couldn't  sleep  in  the  street.  Nor  could  I  ask  them  to 
keep  quiet  and  admit  I  had  heard  them." 

"Well,  I  guess  you  can  forget  anything  you  have  a 
mind  to.  You  couldn't  look  like  you  do — a  kind  of 
princess  out  of  a  fairy  tale  and  an  angel  mixed,  if  you 
couldn't." 

"A  black-haired  angel!  And  all  the  princesses  of 
legend  had  golden  hair." 

"Well,  that's  just  another  way  you're  different."  He 
changed  the  subject  abruptly.  "What  you  goin'  to  do 
now?" 

"I  wish  I  knew." 

"Goin'  back  to  California?" 

"If  I  knew  I  would  tell  you.  But  I  don't.  You  see 
.  .  .  Well,  I  shall  not  live  with  Mr.  D wight  again.  We 
had  been  really  separated  a  long  while  before  I  left — 
and  then  he  has  done  nothing  for  the  war.  That  is  only 
one  reason.  What  should  I  do  there  ?  I  had  thought  of 
going  into  business  before  I  left.  But  I  shall  have  a 
good  income,  and  what  right  have  I  to  go  into  business 
and  use  my  large  connection  to  get  customers  away  from 
those  that  need  the  money  for  their  actual  bread  ? ' ' 

"Not  the  ghost  of  an  excuse.  Farce,  I  call  it.  As 
long  as  the  present  system  lasts  women  of  your  class  bet 
ter  be  ornamental  and  satisfied  with  that  than  take  the 
bread  out  of  mouths  that  need  it. ' ' 

"I  could  not  settle  down  to  the  old  life.  It  isn't  that 
I'm  in  love  with  work.  For  that  matter  I'm  only  too 
grateful  to  be  able  to  rest.  But  I  must  fill  in,  some  way. 
Possibly  I  could  do  that  better  in  France  or  England, 
where  vital  subjects  are  always  being  discussed — and 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          311 

happening! — where  I  would  not  only  be  interested  but 
possibly  useful  in  many  ways.  I  should  feel  rather  a 
brute,  knowing  the  conditions  of  Europe  as  I  do,  to  go 
back  and  settle  down  on  the  smiling  abundance  of  Cali 
fornia.  And  bored  to  death." 

"Then  you  think  you'll  stay?  .  .  .  You'd  be  wasted 
there — at  present — sure  enough." 

' '  Sometimes  I  think  I  '11  buy  this  house.  I  could  for  a 
song.  Heavens !  How  I  have  longed  for  solitude  in  the 
last  four  years!  I  could  have  it  here  with  my  books, 
and  go  to  Paris  as  often  as  I  wished.  It  would  be  an 
ideal  life.  I  could  afford  a  car,  and  to  make  this  house 
very  livable.  And  that  garden  .  .  .  between  those  gray 
high  walls  ...  in  there  .  .  .  that  would  ..." 

She  had  forgotten  Kirkpatrick  and  was  staring 
through  the  long  windows  at  the  dripping  trees  and  the 
riot  of  green.  '  *  There  is  something  about  the  old  world 
...  in  its  byways  like  this  .  .  .  not  in  its  hateful  capi 
tals  .  .  ." 

"Do  you  mean  there's  something  you  want  to  forget? 
That  this  place  would  be  consolin '  like  ? ' ' 

She  met  Kirkpatrick 's  sharp  dilated  eyes  with  smiling 
composure.  ' '  This  war,  and  much  that  has  happened — 
incidental  to  it;  yes." 

' '  You  could  forget  it  easier  in  California. ' ' 

"I  should  forget  too  much." 

* '  It 's  awful  to  think  of  you  not  comin '  back,  though  I 
understand  well  enough.  Europe  suits  you  all  right. 
But  ...  but  .  .  ." 

He  rose  abruptly  almost  overturning  his  fragile  chair. 

"Good-by,  and  as  I  guess  it  is  good-by  111  tell  you 
something  I  wouldn't  if  there  was  any  chance  of  my 
seein'  you  like  I  used  to.  It's  this:  If  I'm  more  of  a 
socialist  than  ever  it's  because  of  you!  If  my  class 
hatred's  blacker  than  ever  you're  the  cause!  You'd 
have  made  me  a  socialist  if  I  wasn't  one  before.  Jesus 
Christ!  When  I  think  what  I  might  have  had  if  we'd  all 
been  born  alike !  Had  the  same  chances !  If  you  hadn  't 
been  born  at  the  top  and  I  down  at  the  bottom  .  .  . 
common  .  .  .  not  even  educated  except  by  myself  after 
I  was  too  old  to  get  what  a  boy  gets  that  goes  to  school 


312          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

long  enough.  I  wouldn't  mind  bein'  born  ugly.  There's 
plenty  of  men  at  the  top  that 's  ugly  enough,  God  knows. 
But  just  one  generation  with  money  irons  out  the  com 
monness.  That's  it!  I'm  common!  Common!  Com 
mon.  Democracy!  Oh,  God!" 

He  caught  up  his  cap  and  rushed  out  of  the  room. 

Alexina  ran  after  him  and  caught  him  at  the  garden 
door.  Like  all  beautiful  women  who  have  listened  to 
many  declarations  of  love  (or  avoided  them)  she  was  in 
clined  to  be  cruel  to  men  that  roused  no  response  in  her. 
But  she  felt  only  pity  for  Kirkpatrick. 

She  had  intended  merely  to  insist  upon  shaking  hands 
with  him,  but  when  she  saw  his  contorted  face  she  slipped 
her  arm  round  his  neck  and  kissed  him  warmly  on  the 
cheek. 

Then  she  pushed  him  .gently  through  the  door  and 
locked  it. 


CHAPTER  X 


A  LEXINA  had  finished  giving  tea  to  two  officers,  a 
**  surgeon  and  a  medecin  major,  and,  enchanted  al 
most  as  much  by  the  sugar  and  the  white  bread  as  by 
their  hostess,  refreshingly  beautiful  and  elegant  in  her 
velvet  gown  of  pervenche  blue,  they  had  lingered  until 
nearly  six.  As  the  concierge  had  gone  out  on  an  errand 
of  her  own  Alexina  had  opened  the  garden  door  for 
them,  and  after  they  disappeared  she  stood  looking  at 
the  street,  which  always  fascinated  her. 

It  was  very  narrow  and  crooked  and  gray.  Her  house 
was  the  only  one  with  a  garden  in  front;  the  others 
rose  perpendicularly  from  the  narrow  pavement,  tall 
and  close  and  rather  imposing.  Each  was  heavily  shut 
tered,  the  shutters  as  gray  as  the  walls.  The  town  had 
been  evacuated  during  the  first  Battle  of  the  Marne  and 
only  the  poor  had  returned.  The  well-to-do  provincials 
in  this  street  had  had  homes  elsewhere,  perhaps  a  flat  in 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  313 

Paris;  or  they  had  established  themselves  in  the  south. 
The  street  had  an  intensely  secretive  air,  brooding, 
waiting.  Soon  all  these  houses  would  be  reopened,  the 
dull  calm  life  of  a  provincial  town  would  flow  again,  the 
only  difference  being  that  the  women  who  went  in  and 
out  of  those  narrow  doors  and  down  this  long  and  twisted 
street  would  wear  black;  but  for  the  most  part  they 
would  sit  in  their  gardens  behind,  secluded  from  every 
eye,  as  indifferent  to  their  neighbors  as  of  old,  with  that 
ingrained  unchangeable  bourgeois  suspicion  and  exelu- 
siveness;  and  the  facades,  the  street  itself,  would  look 
little  less  secretive  than  now. 


n 

Nowhere  could  she  find  such  seclusion  if  she  wished  for 
it.  This  house  was  the  only  one  in  the  street  that  be 
longed  to  a  member  of  the  noblesse,  and  the  bourgeoisie 
had  as  little  "n 
the  bourgeoisie. 

For  the  moment  Alexina  felt  that  the  house  was  hers, 
and  the  street  itself.  She  was  literally  its  only  inhabi 
tant.  As  she  stood  looking  up  and  down  its  misty  gray- 
ness  she  felt  more  peaceful  than  she  had  felt  for  many 
days.  There  were  certain  fierce  terrible  emotions  that 
she  never  wanted  to  feel  again,  and  one  of  them  was  ruth- 
lessness.  She  had  done  much  good  in  the  past  four 
years ;  she  had  been,  for  the  most  part,  high-minded,  self- 
sacrificing,  indifferent  to  the  petty  things  of  life,  even 
to  discomfort,  and  it  had  given  her  a  sense  of  elevation 
— when  she  had  had  time  to  think  about  it.  It  was  only 
certain  extraordinary  circumstances  that  brought  other 
qualities  as  inherent  as  life  itself  surging  to  the  top.  It 
was  demoralizing  even  to  fight  them,  for  that  involved 
recognition.  Better  that  she  protect  herself  from  their 
assaults.  True,  she  was  young,  but  she  had  had  her  fill 
of  drama.  All  her  old  cravings,  never  satisfied  in  the 
old  days  of  peace  without  and  insurgence  within,  had 
been  surfeited  by  this  close  personal  contact  with  the 
greatest  drama  in  history. 

Why  return  to  Paris  at  all?    Why  not  settle  down 


314          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

here  at  once,  live  a  life  of  thought  and  study,  and  give 
abundant  help  where  help  was  needed  ?  There  were  vil 
lages  within  a  few  miles  where  the  inhabitants  were  liv 
ing  in  the  ruins.  (The  Germans  in  their  first  retreat  had 
been  too  hard  pressed  to  linger  long  enough  to  set  fire  to 
this  large  town  and  they  had  not  been  able  to  reach  k 
during  their  second  drive.) 

That  had  been  a  last  flicker  of  romance  at  the  em 
bassy  ...  a  last  resurgence  of  the  evil  the  war  had  done 
her,  as  she  sat  in  her  cold  room  ...  a  last  blaze  of  sheer 
femininity  when  she  discovered  that  Gora  had  come  to 
Paris  in  search  of  Gathbroke.  .  .  . 

She  felt  as  if  she  had  escaped  from  a  bottomless  pit. 
.  .  .  Assuredly  she  had  the  will  and  the  character  to 
make  herself  now  into  whatever  she  chose  to  be  ...  let 
Gora  have  him  if  she  could  find  him  and  keep  him.  .  .  . 
Better  that  than  hating  herself  for  the  rest  of  her  life 
.  .  .  love,  far  from  being  ennobling,  seemed  to  her  the 
most  demoralizing  of  the  passions  .  .  .  there  had  been 
something  ennobling,  expanding,  soul-stirring  in  hating 
the  brutal  mediaeval  race  that  had  devastated  France 
.  .  .  but  in  the  reaction  from  her  fierce  registered  vow  to 
snatch  a  man  from  a  forlorn  unhappy  woman  no  matter 
what  her  claims  and  have  him  for  her  own,  she  had 
shrunk  from  this  new  revelation  of  her  depths  in  horror. 
.  .  .  One  could  not  live  with  that  . 


m 

A  man  in  khaki  was  walking  quickly  down  the  long 
crooked  street.  As  he  approached  she  saw  the  red  on 
his  collar.  He  was  a  British  officer.  In  another  moment 
she  was  shaking  hands  with  Gathbroke. 

She  was  far  more  composed  than  he,  although  she  felt 
as  if  the  world  had  turned  over,  and  there  was  a  roar  in 
her  ears  like  the  sound  of  distant  guns.  She  had  a  vague 
impression  that  the  war  had  begun  again. 

"You  are  the  last  person  I  should  have  expected  to 
meet  here.  There  is  no  British " 

"I  came  here  to  see  you.  I  got  your  address  from 
Madame  de  Morsigny.  I  saw  her  last  night  at  a  recep- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          315 

tion  and  recognized  her.  She  was  at  that  ball  in  San 
Francisco.  I  introduced  myself  at  once  and  asked  her 
if  you  were  in  Paris.  I  was  sure  it  was  you  .  .  . 
that  night  ..." 

"Will  you  come  in?" 

He  followed  her  into  the  salon,  softly  lit  by  candles. 
She  felt  that  fate  for  once  had  been  kind.  It  was  diffi 
cult  to  imagine  surroundings  or  conditions  in  which  she 
would  look  lovelier,  be  seen  to  greater  advantage.  But 
her  hands  were  cold. 

1 1  It  is  too  late  for  tea  but  perhaps  you  will  share  my 
frugal  supper." 

"If  it  won't  inconvenience  you  too  much.     Thanks." 

She  sat  down  in  the  wide  brocaded  chair  with  its  tar 
nished  back.  He  stood  looking  at  her  for  a  moment,  then 
took  a  turn  up  and  down  the  long  room. 

Certainly  she  could  not  object  to  him  to-day  on  the 
score  of  youth  and  freshness.  His  hair  had  lost  its 
brightness.  His  face  was  very  brown  and  thin  and  the 
lines  if  not  deep  were  visible  even  in  the  candle  light. 
His  nose  and  mouth  had  the  hard  determination  that  life, 
more  especially  life  in  war  time,  develops;  it  was  no 
casual  trick  of  Nature  with  him.  His  eyes  were  still  the 
same  bright  golden  hazel,  but  their  expression  was  keen 
and  alert,  and  commanding.  She  fancied  they  could  look 
as  hard  as  those  features  more  susceptible  to  modeling. 


IV 

"Smoke  if  you  like." 

* '  Thanks.     I  don 't  want  to  smoke. ' ' 

Finally  when  Alexina  was  gripping  the  arms  of  the 
chair  he  began  to  speak. 

"I  feel  rather  an  ass.  I  hardly  know  how  to  begin. 
I  'in  no  longer  twenty-three.  I  've  lived  several  lifetimes 
since  this  war  began,  and  made  up  my  mind  twice  that  I 
was  going  out.  I  should  feel  ninety.  Somehow  I  don't 
feel  vastly  different  from  that  day  when  I  grabbed  you 
like  a  brute  because  I  wanted  you  more  than  anything 
on  earth.  .  .  . 

"I  don't  pretend  that  I've  thought  of  you  ever  since. 


316          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

I've  forgotten  you  for  years  at  a  time.  But  there  have 
been  moments  when  you  have  simply  projected  yourself 
into  me  and  been  closer  than  any  mortal  has  ever  been. 
You  were  there ! 

' '  I  felt  there  was  some  meaning  in  those  sudden  secret 
wonderful  visits  of  your  soul  to  mine — I  hate  to  say  what 
sounds  like  sentimental  rotting,  but  that  exactly  ex 
presses  it.  They  belonged  to  some  other  plane  of  con 
sciousness.  It  takes  war  to  shift  a  man  over  the  border 
if  only  for  a  moment.  It  kept  me — lately — from  .  .  . 
never  mind  that  now.  When  I  saw  your  eyes  above  that 
tiny  yellow  flame  ...  it  wasn't  only  that  your  eyes  are 
not  to  be  matched  anywhere  ...  it  seemed  to  me  that 
I  saw  myself  in  them.  They  came  as  close  as  that! 
Laugh  if  you  like." 

He  stood  defiantly  in  front  of  her. 

'  *  God !  You  look  as  if  you  never  had  had  an  emotion, 
never  could  have  one.  But  you  had  once,  if  only  for  a 
moment!" 

* '  I  have  never  had  one  since — for  any  one,  that  is.  I 
hear  the  concierge.  1 11  tell  her  to  set  a  place  for  you. ' ' 


She  left  the  room  and  he  stared  after  her.  Her  words 
had  been  full  of  meaning  but  her  voice  had  been  even  and 
cold. 

She  returned  and  asked:  "Are  you  in  any  way  com 
mitted  to  Gora  Dwight?" 

"No  .  .  .  yes  .  .  .  that  is  ...  why  do  you  ask  me 
that?" 

"Are  you  engaged  to  her?" 

"I  am  not.  But  I  came  very  close — that  is,  of  course 
if  she  would  have  had  me.  She  nursed  me  after  I  was 
wounded  and  gassed.  She  was  a  wonderful  nurse  and 
there  was  something  almost  romantic  in  meeting  her 
again  ...  as  if  she  had  come  straight  out  of  the  past. 
We  had  an  extraordinary  experience  as  you  know.  I 
was  not  in  the  least  drawn  to  her  at  that  time.  You 
filled,  possessed  me." 

He  hesitated.    But  it  was  a  barrier  he  had  not  antici- 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          317 

pated  and  it  must  go  down.  Moreover,  it  was  evident 
that  she  wouldn  't  talk,  and  he  was  too  excited  for  silence 
on  his  own  part. 

"She  was  there  .  .  .  when  a  man  is  weakest  .  .  . 
when  he  values  tenderness  above  all  things  .  .  .  when  he 
does  little  thinking  on  either  the  past  or  the  future. 

' '  She  has  a  queer  odd  kind  of  fascination  too,  and  any 
man  must  admire  a  woman  so  clever  and  capable  and  al 
together  fine.  Several  times  I  almost  proposed  to  her. 
But  there  is  no  privacy  in  wards.  I  was  sent  back  to 
England  and  went  to  my  brother's  house  in  Hertford 
shire.  It  was  then  that  you  began  to  haunt  me.  She 
had  rejuvenated  that  California  period  in  my  mind — re 
suscitated  it  ...  but  both  express  what  I  am  trying  to 
say.  We  had  often  talked  about  California  and  the  fire. 
She  alluded  to  you,  casually,  of  course,  more  than  once ; 
but  as  I  looked  back  I  gathered  that  your  marriage  had 
been  a  mistake  and  that  you  had  known  it  for  a  long 
time. 

* '  She  did  not  come  to  England  until  four  months  later, 
and  then  she  was  in  charge  of  a  hospital.  I  took  her 
out  occasionally — she  was  very  much  confined.  I  liked 
her  as  much  as  ever.  But  /  didn't  wwnt  her.  It  seemed 
tragic.  There  was  one  chance  in  a  million  that  I  should 
ever  meet  you  again.  Once  I  deliberately  drew  her  on 
to  talk  of  you  and  asked  why  you  did  not  divorce  your 
husband.  She  commented  satirically  upon  the  intense 
conservatism  of  your  family  and  of  your  own  inflexible 
pride.  She  added  that  you  were  the  only  beautiful 
woman  she  had  ever  known  who  seemed  to  be  quite  indif 
ferent  to  men — sexless,  she  meant !  But  no  woman  knows 
anything  about  other  women.  I  knew  better ! 

"As  I  said  it  was  rather  tragic.  To  be  haunted  by  a 
chimera!  I  liked  her  so  much.  Admired  her.  Who 
wouldn't?  If  she  had  been  able  to  take  me  home,  to 
remain  with  me,  there  is  no  doubt  in  the  world  that  I 
should  have  married  her  if  she  would  have  had  me.  .  .  . 
I  prefer  now  to  believe  that  she  wouldn't.  Why  should 
she,  with  a  great  career  in  front  of  her  ? 

"No  doubt  I  should  have  loved  her — with  what  little 
love  I  had  to  give.  But  those  months  had  taught  me  that 


318          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

I  could  do  without  her,  although  I  enjoyed  her  letters. 
Even  so  ... 

"It  was  after  she  came  to  London  that  I  felt  I  had  to 
talk  to  some  one  and  I  went  down  to  the  country  to  see 
Lady  Yick — Elton  Gwynne's  mother.  She  had  founded 
a  hospital  and  run  it,  and  was  resting,  worn  out.  She  is 
a  hard  nut,  empty,  withered,  arid.  Nothing  left  in  her 
but  noblesse  oblige.  But  there  is  little  she  doesn  't  know. 
She  was  smoking  a  black  cigar  that  would  have  knocked 
me  down  and  looked  like  an  old  sibyl.  I  told  her  the 
whole  story — all  of  it,  that  is  that  was  not  too  sacred. 
She  puffed  such  a  cloud  of  smoke  that  I  could  see  nothing 
but  her  hard,  bright,  wise,  old  eyes.  t  Go  after  her, '  she 
said.  'Find  her.  Divorce  her.  Marry  her.  That's 
where  you  men  have  the  advantage.  You  can  stalk 
straight  out  into  the  open  and  demand  what  you  want 
point  blank.  No  scheming,  plotting,  deceit,  being  one 
thing  and  pretending  another,  in  other  words  ice  when 

you  are  fire.  Beastly  role,  woman's '  I  interrupted 

to  remind  her  that  it  was  twelve  years  since  I  had  seen, 
you;  that  you  had  thrown  me  down  as  hard  as  a  man 
ever  got  it  and  married  another  man.  There  was  no 
more  reason  to  believe  that  I  could  win  you  now.  Then 
she  asked  me  what  I  ha'd  come  to  see  her  and  bore  her 
to  death  for  when  she  was  trying  to  rest.  *  If  you  want 
a  thing  go  for  it  and  get  it,  or  if  you  can't  get  it  at  least 
find  out  that  you  can't.  Also  see  her  again  and  find  out 
whether  you  want  her  or  not,  instead  of  mooning  like  a 
silly  ass. ' 

"The  upshot  was  I  made  up  my  mind  to  go  to  Cali 
fornia  as  soon  as  I  could  obtain  my  discharge.  It  never 
occurred  to  me  that  you  were  in  Paris.  Then  I  was  sent 
to  Paris  with  the  Commission.  I  have  certain  expert 
knowledge.  .  .  .  For  some  reason  I  didn't  tell  Miss 
Dwight.  ...  I  wrote  her  a  hurried  note  saying  that  I 
was  obliged  to  go  to  Paris  for  a  few  weeks. 

"The  night  after  I  arrived  I  saw  you  at  the  Embassy. 
That  finished  it.  If  I  hadn't  been  sent  back  to  England 
for  some  papers — twice — I'd  have  found  you  before 
this." 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          319 


CHAPTER  XI 


HPHE  concierge  announced  supper.  Alexina  had 
•*•  brought  food  with  her  and  the  little  meal  was  good 
if  not  abundant.  The  dining-room  was  very  dreary,  al 
though  warmed  by  the  petrol  stove.  It  was  a  long  dark 
room,  paneled  to  the  ceiling,  and  the  two  candles  on  the 
table  did  little  more  to  define  their  lineaments  to  each 
other  than  the  flames  of  briquet  and  match. 

The  concierge  served  and  they  talked  of  the  Peace  Con 
ference  and  of  the  general  pessimism  that  prevailed. 
Same  old  diplomacy.  Same  old  diplomatists.  Same  old 
ambitions.  Same  old  European  policies.  An  idealist 
had  about  as  much  chance  with  those  astute  convention 
alized  brains  dyed  in  the  diplomatic  wiles  and  methods 
of  the  centuries  as  an  unarmed  man  on  foot  with  a  pack 
of  wolves.  ...  At  the  moment  all  the  other  Commis 
sions  were  cursing  Italy.  .  .  .  She  might  be  the  stum 
bling  block  to  ultimate  peace.  ...  As  for  the  League  of 
Nations,  as  well  ask  for  the  millenium  at  once.  Human 
nature  probably  inspired  the  creed:  "As  it  was  in  the 
beginning,  is  now,  and  ever  shall  be,"  etc.  "What  we 
want"  (this,  Gathbroke),  "is  an  alliance  between  Great 
Britain  and  the  United  States.  They  could  rule  the 
world.  Let  the  rest  of  everlastingly  snarling  Europe  go 
hang."  Elton  Gwynne  would  work  for  that.  He  had 
already  obtained  his  discharge  and  returned  to  America. 
He,  Gathbroke,  w  'd  work  for  it  too.  So  would  anybody 
else  in  the  two  countries  that  had  any  sense  and  no 
personal  fish  to  fry. 

n 

When  they  returned  to  the  salon  he  smoked.  Alexina 
was  thankful  that  it  was  cigarettes.  Mortimer  had  made 
her  hate  cigars.  If,  like  most  Englishmen,  he  loved  his 
pipe,  he  had  the  tact  to  keep  it  in  his  pocket. 

It  was  she  who  reopened  the  subject  that  filled  him. 


320          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

"I  feel  sorry  for  Gora.  Her  life  has  been  a  tragedy 
in  a  way.  Of  course  she  has  had  her  successes,  her  com 
pensations.  But  it  isn't  quite  everything  to  be  the  best 
of  nurses,  and  I  don't  know  that  even  writing  could  fill 
a  woman's  life.  Not  unless  she'd  had  the  other  thing 
first.  I  am  afraid  she'll  never  be  very  popular  anyhow. 
There  are  only  small  groups  here  and  there  in  America 
than  can  stand  intellect  in  fiction.  ...  It  seems  to  me 
that  she  would  make  a  great  wife.  I  mean  that.  It  is  a 
great  role  and  she  could  fill  it  greatly.  I  don't  know, 
of  course,  whether  she  cares  for  you  or  not.  I  am  not  in 
her  confidence.  She  is  staying  at  my  pension  in  Passy 
and  I  saw  her  constantly  for  ten  days  before  I  came  here, 
but  she  did  not  mention  your  name.  ...  If  she  does 
she's  the  sort  that  would  never  marry  any  one  else  and 
her  life  would  be  spoilt.  I  don 't  mean  to  say  she  would 
give  up,  but  she  would  just  keep  going.  That  seems  to 
me  the  greatest  tragedy  of  all.  .  .  . 

1 '  No !  Why  should  there  be  any  of  this  conventional 
subterfuge.  I  believe  that  she  does  care  for  you.  I  be 
lieved  so  long  ago.  I  was  jealous  of  her.  I  don't  mean 
to  say  that  I  was  in  love  with  you.  I— perhaps  forced 
myself  not  to  be.  It  seemed  too  silly.  Too  utterly 
hopeless.  .  .  .  Besides  I  knew  even  then  the  danger  of 
letting  myself  go  ...  of  the  unbridled  imagination.. 
Probably  love  is  all  imagination  anyhow.  French  mar 
riages  would  seem  to  prove  it.  But  we — your  race  and 
mine — have  fallen  into  a  sublime  sort  of  error,  and  we  '11 
no  more  reason  ourselves  out  of  it  than  out  of  the  sex 
tyranny  itself.  ...  I  don't  see  how  I  could  be  happy 
with  the  eternal  knowledge  that  Gora  was  miserable — 
that  she  would  be  happy  if  I  had  remained  in  Califor 
nia.  .  .  ." 

' '  I  have  just  told  you  that  I  should  have  gone  to  Cali 
fornia  as  soon  as  I  was  free." 


m 

The  air  between  them  quivered  and  their  eyes  were 
almost  one.  But  he  remained  smoking  in  his  chair  and 
continued : 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          321 

"I  marry  you  or  no  one.  A  man  well  and  a  man  ill 
are  two  different  beings.  In  illness  sex  is  dormant. 
When  a  man  is  well  lie  wants  a  woman  or  he  doesn't 
want  her.  It  may  be  neither  his  fault  nor  hers.  But  it' 
she  hasn't  the  sex  pull  for  him,  doesn't  make  a  power 
ful  insistent  demand  upon  his  passion,  there  is  nothing 
to  build  on.  I  haven't  come  out  alive  from  that  shriek 
ing  hell  to  be  satisfied  with  second-class  emotions.  I  lay 
one  night  under  three  dead  bodies,  not  one  over  twenty- 
five.  I  knew  them  all.  Each  was  deeply  in  love  with  a 
woman.  .  .  .  Well,  I  knew  the  value  of  life  that  night 
if  I  never  did  before.  And  life  was  given  to  us,  when 
we  can  hold  on  to  it,  for  the  highest  happiness  of  which 
we  are  individually  capable,  no  matter  what  else  we  are 
forced  to  put  up  with.  Happiness  at  the  highest  pitch, 
not  makeshifts.  .  .  .  The  horrors,  the  obstacles,  the  very 
demons  in  our  own  characters  were  second  thoughts  on 
the  part  of  Life  either  to  satisfy  her  own  spite  or  to 
throw  her  highest  purpose  into  stronger  relief.  I  '11  have 
the  highest  or  nothing. ' ' 

"But  that  is  not  everything.  There  must  be  other 
things  to  make  it  lasting.  Gora  would  make  a  great 
companion. ' ' 

"Not  half  so  great — to  me — as  you  would  .and  you 
know  it.  I  hope  you  will  understand  that  I  dislike  ex 
tremely  to  speak  of  Miss  Dwight  at  all.  If  you  had  not 
brought  her  name  into  it  I  never  should  have  done  so. 
But  now  I  feel  I  must  have  a  complete  understanding 
with  you  at  any  cost. ' ' 

He  dropped  his  cigarette  on  the  table.  He  left  his 
chair  swiftly  and  snatched  her  from  her  own.  His  face 
was  dark  and  he  was  trembling  even  more  than  she  was. 

"I'll  have  you  .  .  .  have  you.  .  .  ." 

She  nodded. 


322  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  XII 


ORA  entered  her  room  at  the  pension,  mechanically 
lit  the  oil  stove  that  Alexina  had  procured  for  her, 
threw  her  hat  on  the  bed,  sat  down  in  the  low  chair 
and  thrust  her  hands  into  the  thick  coils  of  hair  piled  as 
always  on  top  of  her  head.  As  she  did  so  she  caught 
sight  of  herself  in  the  mirror  and  wondered  absurdly 
why  she  should  have  kept  all  her  hair  and  lost  so  much 
of  her  face.  She  looked  more  top-heavy  than  ever.  Her 
face  was  a  small  oblong,  her  eyes  out  of  all  proportion. 
She  thought  herself  hideous. 

She  had  heard  two  hours  before  that  Gathbroke  was 
in  Paris  attached  to  the  British  Commission.  She  had 
met  an  old  acquaintance,  a  San  Francisco  newspaper 
man,  who  had  taken  her  to  lunch  and  spoken  of  him 
casually.  Gathbroke  had  good-naturedly  given  him  an 
interview  when  other  members  of  the  Commission  had 
been  inaccessible. 

Gathbroke  had  told  her  nothing  of  a  definite  object 
when  he  wrote  her  that  he  was  off  for  Paris.  Nor  had 
he  mentioned  it  in  the  note  he  had  written  her  after  his 
arrival.  This  had  been  merely  to  tell  her  that  he  was 
feeling  as  well  as  he  ever  had  felt  in  his  life  and  was 
enjoying  himself.  Polite  admonition  not  to  tire  herself 
out.  He  was  always  hers  gratefully  and  her  devoted 
friend. 

He  had  written  the  note  at  the  Ritz  Hotel,  but  when, 
assuming  this  was  his  address,  she  had  called  him 
up  on  her  arrival,  she  had  received  the  information  that 
he  was  not  stopping  there,  nor  had  been. 

Gora  was  very  proud.  But  she  was  also  very  much  in 
love ;  and  she  had  been  in  love  with  Gathbroke  for  twelve 
years.  For  the  greater  part  of  that  time  she  had  be 
lieved  it  to  be  hopeless,  but  it  had  always  been  with  her, 
a  sad  but  not  too  painful  undertone  in  her  busy  life.  It 
had  kept  her  from  even  a  passing  interest  in  another 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          323 

man.  She  had  even  felt  a  somewhat  ironic  gratitude  to 
him  and  his  indifference,  for  all  the  forces  of  her  nature, 
deprived  of  their  natural  outlet,  went  into  her  literary 
work,  informing  it  with  an  arresting  and  a  magnetic 
vitality.  She  had  believed  herself  to  be  without  hope, 
but  in  the  remote  feminine  fastnesses  of  her  nature  she 
had  hoped,  even  dreamed — when  she  had  the  time.  That 
was  not  often.  Her  life,  except  when  at  her  desk  with 
her  literary  faculty  turned  loose,  had  been  practical  to 
excess. 

She  would  have  offered  her  services  in  any  case  to  one 
of  the  warring  allies,  no  doubt  of  that ;  the  tremendous 
adventure  would  have  appealed  to  her  quite  aside  from 
the  natural  desire  to  place  her  high  accomplishment  as  a 
nurse  at  the  disposal  of  tortured  men.  Nevertheless  she 
was  quite  aware  that  she  went  to  the  British  Army  with 
the  distinct  hope  of  meeting  Gathbroke  again ;  quite  as, 
under  the  cloak  of  travel,  she  would  have  gone  to  Eng 
land  long  since  had  she  not  been  swindled  by  Mortimer. 

Until  she  found  him  insensible,  apparently  at  the  point 
of  death,  after  the  terrible  disaster  of  March,  nineteen- 
eighteen,  she  had  only  heard  of  him  once :  when  she  read 
in  the  Times  he  had  been  awarded  the  D.  S.  0. 

She  knew  then  where  he  was  and  maneuvered  to  get 
back  to  France.  She  found  him  sooner  than  she  had 
dared  to  hope.  And  she  believed  that  she  had  saved 
his  life.  Not  only  by  her  accomplished  nursing.  Her 
powerful  will  had  thrown  out  its  grappling  irons  about 
his  escaping  ego  and  dragged  it  back  and  held  it  in  its 
exhausted  tenement. 

He  had  believed  that  also.  He  had  an  engaging  spon 
taneity  of  nature  and  he  had  felt  and  shown  her  a  lively 
gratitude.  He  was  restless  and  frankly  unhappy  when 
she  was  out  of  his  sight.  He  had  a  charming  way  of 
Baying  charming  things  to  a  woman  and  he  said  them  to 
her.  But  he  was  also  as  full  of  ironic  humor  as  in  his 
letters  and  ' '  ragged ' '  her.  And  he  talked  to  her  eagerly 
when  he  was  better  and  she  had  gone  with  him  to  a  hos 
pital  far  back  of  the  lines.  There  were  intervals  when 
they  could  talk,  and  the  other  men  would  listen  .  .  . 
and  had  taken  things  for  granted. 


324          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

So  had  she.  He  had  not  made  love  to  her.  There 
was  no  privacy.  Moreover,  she  guessed  that  his  keen 
sense  of  the  ridiculous  would  not  permit  him  to  make  love 
to  any  woman  when  helpless  under  her  hands. 

But  how  could  there  be  other  than  one  finale  to  such 
a  story  as  theirs?  What  was  fiction  but  the  reflection 
of  life?  If  she  had  written  a  story  with  these  obvious 
materials  there  could  have  been  but  one  logical  ending 
— unless,  in  a  sudden  spasm  of  reaction  against  romance, 
she  had  killed  him  off. 

But  he  would  live ;  and  not  be  strong  enough  to  return 
to  the  front  for  months  .  .  .  the  war  must  be  over  by 
then.  .  .  .  As  for  romance,  well,  she  was  in  the  romantic 
mood.  It  was  a  right  of  youth  that  she  had  missed,  but 
a  woman  may  be  quite  as  romantic  at  thirty-four  as  at 
eighteen,  if  she  has  sealed  her  fountain  instead  of  splash 
ing  it  dry  when  she  was  too  young  to  know  its  precious- 
ness.  Once  before  she  had  surrendered  to  romance, 
fleetingly:  during  the  week  that  followed  the  night  she 
had  sat  on  Calvary  with  Gathbroke  and  watched  a  sea  of 
flames. 

The  mood  descended  upon  her,  possessed  her.  She  had 
other  patients.  There  were  the  same  old  horrors,  the 
same  heart-rending  duties ;  but  the  mood  stayed  with  her. 
And  after  he  left  for  England.  She  knew  there  could 
be  but  one  ending.  Her  imagination  had  surrendered  to 
tradition. 

Moreover,  she  was  tired  of  hard  work.  She  wanted  to 
settle  down  in  a  home.  She  wanted  children.  She  must 
always  write,  of  course.  Writing  was  as  natural  to  her 
as  breathing.  And  she  had  already  proved  that  a  woman 
could  do  two  things  equally  well. 


n 

She  never  thought  of  trying  to  follow  him  back  to 
England,  to  shirk  the  increasing  terrible  duties  behind 
the  reorganized  but  harassed  armies.  The  wounded 
seemed  to  drop  through  the  hospital  roof  like  flies. 

Nevertheless  when  she  was  abruptly  transferred  to 
London  she  went  without  protest !  It  was  then  that  she 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  325 

began  to  have  misgivings.  She  was  given  charge  of  a 
large  hospital  just  outside  of  London  and  her  duties 
were  constant  and  confining.  But  she  managed  to  go 
out  to  lunch  with  him  twice  and  once  to  dine;  after 
which  they  drove  back  to  the  hospital  in  a  slow  and  bat 
tered  old  hansom. 

She  returned  a  few  weeks  before  the  Armistice.  She 
had  not  seen  him  for  four  months.  He  was  well  and 
expecting  to  be  sent  back  to  the  front  any  day.  At 
present  they  were  making  use  of  him  in  London. 

If  anything  he  appeared  to  admire  her  more  than  ever, 
to  be  more  solicitous  for  her  health.  He  lamented  per 
sonally  her  exacting  duties.  But  it  was  the  almost  ex 
uberant  friendliness  of  one  man  for  another,  for  a  com 
rade,  a  good  fellow;  although  he  often  paid  her  quick 
little  diagnostic  compliments.  If  she  hadn't  loved  him 
she  would  have  enjoyed  his  companionship.  He  had 
read  and  thought  and  lived.  Before  the  war  he  had  been 
in  active  public  life.  He  had  far  greater  plans  for 
the  future. 

He  had  been  almost  entirely  impersonal.  It  had  mad 
dened  her.  Even  the  night  they  had  driven  through  the 
dark  streets  of  London  out  to  her  hospital,  although  he 
had  talked  more  or  less  about  himself,  even  encouraged 
her  to  talk  about  herself,  there  had  not  been  one  instant 
of  correlation. 

But  she  had  made  excuses  as  women  do,  in  self-de 
fense.  He  assumed  that  he  might  easily  go  back  to  the 
front  just  in  time  to  get  himself  killed,  although  the  end 
of  the  war  was  in  sight.  .  .  .  Her  utter  lack  of  experi 
ence  with  men  in  any  sex  relation  had  made  her  stiff, 
even  in  her  letters;  afraid  of  " giving  herself  away." 
She  had  no  coquetry.  If  she  had,  pride  would  have 
forbidden  her  to  use  it.  Her  ideals  were  intensely  old- 
fashioned.  She  wanted  to  be  pursued,  won.  The  man 
must  do  it  all.  Her  writings  had  never  been  in  the  least 
romantic.  Well,  she  was,  if  romance  meant  having  cer 
tain  fixed  ideals. 

One  thing  puzzled  her.  When  she  wrote  she  manipu 
lated  her  men  and  women  in  their  mutual  relations  with 
a  master-hand.  But  she  had  not  the  least  idea  how  to 


326          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

manage  her  own  affair.  What  was  genius?  A  rotten 
spot  in  the  brain,  a  displacement  of  particles  that  oper 
ated  independently  of  personality,  of  the  inherited  ego  • 
Possession?  Ancestors  come  to  life  for  an  hour  in  the 
subliminal  depths?  But  what  did  she  care  for  genius 
anyhow ! 

One  thing  she  would  have  been  willing  to  do  as  her 
part,  aside  from  meeting  him  mentally  at  all  points  and 
showing  a  brisk  frank  pleasure  in  his  society :  give  him 
every  chance  to  woo  and  win  her,  to  find  her  more  and 
more  indispensable  to  his  happiness.  But  she  was  no 
woman  of  leisure.  She  could  not  receive  him  in  charm 
ing  toilettes  in  an  equally  seductive  room.  She  had 
nothing  for  evening  wear  but  an  old  black  satin  gown. 
After  her  arrival  in  London  she  had  found  time  to  buy 
a  smart  enough  tailored  coat  and  skirt,  and  a  hat,  but 
nothing  more. 

And  after  the  Armistice  was  declared  she  only  saw 
him  once. 

Then  came  his  abrupt  departure  for  Paris.  His  non 
committal  note.  Even  then  she  refused  to  despair.  It 
would  be  an  utterly  impossible  end  to  such  a  story  .  .  . 
after  twelve  years  .  .  .  not  for  a  moment  would  she 
accept  that. 

m 

She  applied  for  her  discharge.  During  her  long  stay 
in  the  British  service  she  had  made  influential  friends. 
She  had  also  made  a  high  record  not  only  for  ability 
but  for  an  untiring  fidelity.  Her  vacations  had  been  few 
and  brief.  She  obtained  her  discharge  and  went  to 
Paris.  Her  pride  would  permit  her  to  telephone.  What 
more  natural  ?  Nothing  would  have  surprised  him  more 
than  if  she  had  not.  She  had  little  doubt  of  his  falling 
into  the  habit  of  daily  companionship.  He  knew  Paris 
and  she  did  not.  He  would  have  seen  her  daily  in  Lon 
don  if  she  had  been  free. 

Something,  no  doubt  of  that,  held  him  back.  He  was 
discouraged  ...  or  not  sure  of  himself.  .  .  .  She  had 
assumed  as  a  matter  of  course  that  he  was  at  the  Ritz. 
When  she  found  that  he  was  not,  had  not  been,  she 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          327 

realized  that  lie  had  omitted  to  give  her  an  address. 

That  might  have  been  mere  carelessness.  .  .  .  But  to 
find  him  in  Paris !  She  had  not  visualized  such  swarms 
of  people.  She  might  almost  have  passed  him  on  the 
street  and  not  seen  him.  But  not  for  a  moment  did  she 
waver  from  her  purpose.  She  held  passionately  to  the 
belief  that  were  they  together  day  after  day,  hours  on 
end  .  .  . 

Unbelievable. 

IV 

She  had  telephoned  an  hour  ago  to  the  hotel  where  he 
was  staying  with  other  members  of  the  British  Commis 
sion  and  been  told  that  he  was  out  of  town,  but  might 
return  any  moment. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  write  him  a  note  and 
wait.  She  was  not  equal  to  the  humiliation  of  telephon 
ing  a  third  time.  She  wrote  it  at  the  hotel  where  her 
English  friends  were  staying  and  sent  it  by  messenger, 
having  heard  of  the  idiosyncracies  of  the  Paris  post. 

Hastings,  her  newspaper  friend,  had  been  altogether  a 
bird  of  ill  omen.  He  had  told  her  that  the  American 
market  was  glutted  with  "war  stuff."  The  public  was 
sick  of  it.  Some  of  the  magazines  were  advertising  that 
they  would  read  no  more  of  it.  She  had  told  him  that 
her  material  was  magnificent  and  he  had  replied:  "Can 
it.  Maybe  a  year  or  two  from  now — five,  more  likely. 
I  'm  told  over  here  that  the  war  fiction  we  've  had  wished 
on  us  by  the  ton  resembles  the  real  thing  just  about  as 
much  as  maneuvers  look  like  the  first  Battle  of  the  Marne, 
say,  when  the  Germans  didn't  know  where  they  were  at; 
went  out  quail  hunting  and  struck  a  jungle  full  of 
tigers.  .  .  .  Why  not  ?  When  most  of  'em  were  written 
by  men  of  middle  age  snug  beside  a  library  fire  with 
mattresses  on  the  roof — in  America  not  even  a  Zeppelin 
to  warm  up  their  blood.  But  that  doesn't  matter.  The 
public  took  it  all  as  gospel.  Ate  it  up.  Now  it  is  fed 
up  and  wants  something  else." 

What  irony! 

And  what  a  future  if  he — but  that  she  would  not  face. 


328  THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 


CHAPTER  XII 


OHE  heard  Janet  Maynard,  who  had  returned  alone 
^  the  day  before  from  Nice,  enter  the  next  room.  She 
kept  very  still;  she  had  no  desire  for  conversation.  But 
Janet  tapped  on  her  door  in  a  moment  and  entered  look 
ing  very  important. 

' '  I  Ve  something  to  tell  you, ' '  she  announced.  ' '  You  'd 
never  guess  in  a  thousand  years.  Don't  get  up.  I'll  sit 
on  the  bed — used  to  any  old  place.  Only  too  thankful 
it  isn't  a  box,  or  to  sit  down  at  all.  Try  one  of  mine? 
Don't  you  feel  well?" 

"I've  a  rotten  headache." 

"Oh  .  .  .  mind  my  smoking?" 

•' '  Not  a  bit.    What  did  you  have  to  tell  me  ? " 

"Well,  'way  back  in  ancient  times,  B.W.,  nineteen  hun 
dred  and  six,  a  young  Englishman  named  Gathbroke 
came  to  California  after  his  sister,  who  was  ill."  She 
was  blowing  rings  and  did  not  see  Gora's  face.  When 
she  leveled  her  eyes  Gora  was  unbuttoning  her  gaiters. 
' '  It  seems  she  died  some  time  during  the  fire  and  he  had 
a  perfectly  horrid  experience  getting  the  body  out  to  the 
cemetery.  But  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  story. 
He  met  Olive  and  the  rest  of  us — and  Alexina — the  night 
of  the  Hofer  ball.  I  had  forgotten  the  whole  thing  until 
Olive  reminded  me  that  we  had  joked  Alex  afterward 
about  the  way  she  had  bowled  him  over.  His  eyes  simply 
followed  her,  but  Mortimer  gave  him  no  chance. 

"Then  I  remembered  something  else.  Isabel  Gwynne 
once  told  me  that  her  husband  was  sure  Gathbroke  had 
proposed  to  Alex  one  day  when  he  took  him  down  to 
Rincona.  He  was  in  a  simply  awful  state  of  nerves 
afterward.  John  thought  he  was  going  out  of  his  mind. 
Now,  here's  the  point.  Night  before  last  Olive  was  at  a 
ball  and  who  should  come  up  to  her  and  introduce  him 
self  but  Gathbroke.  He's  changed  a  lot  but  she  rec 
ognized  him.  Well,  he  hardly  waited  to  finish  the  usual 
amenities  before  he  asked  her  plump  out  if  Alex  was 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  329 

in  Paris,  said  he  was  positive  he  had  seen  her  at  that 
Embassy  ball  where  all  the  lights  went  out  and  they  ex 
pected  a  riot.  He  turned  white  when  he  did  it,  but  he 
was  as  direct  as  chain  lightning.  He  wanted  her  ad 
dress.  Of  course  he  got  it.  Olive  was  thrilled.  It's 
safe  to  assume  that  he's  with  Alex  at  the  present  mo 
ment.  At  any  rate  Olive  called  him  up  this  morning 
intending  to  ask  him  to  dinner,  and  was  told  he  was  out 
of  town.  Now,  isn't  that  romance  for  you?" 

"Bather." 

* '  Twelve  years !  Fancy  a  man  being  faithful  all  that 
time.  Hadn't  got  what  he  wanted,  that's  probably  why. 
Have  you  ever  heard  Alex  speak  of  him  ?  Think  she  11 
divorce  Mortimer  ? ' ' 

"I  asked  her  the  other  night  why  she  didn't.  She 
said  it  was  against  the  traditions  of  the  family.  But — 
I  recall — she  said — it  seemed  to  me  there  was  a  curious 
sort  of  meaning  in  her  voice — that  if  she  wanted  to 
marry  a  man  nothing  would  stop  her. ' ' 

"And  it  wouldn't.  Nothing  would  stop  Alexina  if 
anything  started  her.  The  trouble  always  was  to  start 
her.  She's  indolent  and  unsusceptible  and  fastidious. 
But  deep  and  intense — Lord !  Mark  my  words,  she  saw 
him  at  the  Embassy.  If  she  did  and  the  thing's  mutual 
she'll  give  poor  old  Maria  such  a  shock  that  the  war 
will  look  like  ten  cents. " 

"Possibly." 

"You  look  really  ill,   Gora.    No  wonder  you  have 
headaches  with  that  hair.    It 's  magnificent — but !   Go  to 
bed  and  I  '11  send  up  your  dinner.     Got  any  aspirin  f ' ' 
Yes,  thanks." 


CHAPTER  XIII 


HpIIE  day  was  fine  and  Alexina  took  advantage  of  the 

*    brief  interval  of  grace  and    went  for  a  walk.   Gath- 

broke  was  in  Paris  but  might  come  out  any  moment.    She 


330          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

wore  a  coat  and  skirt  of  heavy  white  English  tweed  with 
a  silk  blouse  of  periwinkle  blue.  The  same  soft  shade 
lined  her  black  velvet  hat. 

She  had  a  number  of  notes  changed  at  the  bank  and 
struck  out  for  one  of  the  ruined  villages.  She  was  in 
a  mood  to  distribute  happiness,  and  only  silver  coin 
could  carry  a  ray  of  light  into  the  dark  stupefied  recesses 
of  those  miserable  wretches  living  in  the  ruins  of  homes 
haunted  by  memories  of  their  dead. 

She  felt  a  very  torch  of  happiness  herself.  Her  body 
and  her  brain  glowed  with  it.  The  currents  of  her  blood 
seemed  to  have  changed  their  pace  and  their  essence. 
The  elixir  of  life  was  in  them.  She  felt  less  woman  than 
goddess. 

She  knew  now  why  she  had  been  born,  why  she  had 
waited.  As  long  as  this  terrible  war  had  to  be  she  was 
thankful  for  her  intimate  contact  with  the  very  mar 
tyrdom  of  suffering;  never  else  could  she  have  known 
to  the  full  the  value  of  life  and  youth  and  health  and  the 
power  to  be  triumphantly  happy  in  love.  She  would 
have  liked  to  wave  a  wand  and  make  all  the  world  happy, 
but  as  this  was  as  little  possible  as  to  remake  human 
nature  itself  she  soared  into  an  ether  of  her  own  to  revel 
in  her  astounding  good  fortune. 


The  village  she  approached  was  picturesque  in  its 
ruin  for  it  climbed  the  side  of  a  hill,  and  although  the 
Germans  had  set  fire  deliberately  to  every  house  the 
shells  for  the  most  part  remained.  Along  the  low  ridge 
was  a  row  of  brick  walls  in  various  stages  of  gaunt  and 
jagged  transfiguration.  They  looked  less  the  victims  of 
fire  than  of  earthquake. 

The  narrow  ascending  street  was  filled  with  rubble. 
She  picked  her  way  and  peered  into  the  ruins.  At  first 
she  saw  no  one ;  the  place  seemed  to  be  deserted.  Then 
some  one  moved  in  a  dark  cellar,  and  as  she  stood  at  the 
top  of  the  short  flight  of  steps  a  very  old  woman  came 
forward  into  the  light.  There  were  two  children  at  her 
heels. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          331 

Alexina  suddenly  felt  very  awkward.  She  had  always 
thought  the  mere  handing  out  of  money  the  most  detesta 
ble  part  of  charity.  But  there  was  nothing  here  to  buy. 
That  was  obvious. 

The  old  woman  however  relieved  her  embarrassment. 
She  extended  a  skinny  hand.  The  poor  of  France  are 
not  loquacious,  but  like  all  their  compatriots  they  know 
what  they  want,  and  no  doubt  feel  that  life  is  simplified 
when  they  are  in  a  position  to  ask  for  it. 

Alexina  gratefully  handed  her  a  coin  and  hurried  on. 
Her  next  experience  was  as  simple  but  more  delicate. 
A  younger  woman  had  fitted  up  a  corner  of  her  ruin 
with  a  petticoat  for  roof  and  a  plank  supported  by  two 
piles  of  brick  for  counter  and  had  laid  in  a  supply  of 
the  post  cards  that  pictured  with  terrible  fidelity  the 
ruins  of  her  village.  Alexina  bought  the  entire  stock, 
"to  scatter  broadcast  in  the  United  States/'  and  prom 
ised  to  send  her  friends  for  more;  assuring  the  woman 
that  when  the  tourists  came  to  France  once  more  these 
ruined  villages  would  be  magnets  for  gold. 

She  managed  to  get  rid  of  her  coins  without  much  dif 
ficulty,  although  comparatively  few  of  the  village's  in 
habitants  had  returned,  and  these  by  stealth.  Many  of 
them  had  trekked  far !  Others  were  still  detained  at  the 
hostels  in  Paris  and  other  cities  where  they  could  be 
looked  after  without  too  much  trouble. 

Several  had  set  up  housekeeping  in  the  cellars  in  a 
fashion  not  unlike  that  of  their  cave  dwelling  ancestors, 
and  a  few  had  found  a  piece  of  roof  above  ground  to 
huddle  under  when  it  rained.  Some  talked  to  her  pleas 
antly,  some  were  surly,  others  unutterably  sad.  None 
refused  her  largesse,  and  she  was  amused  to  look  back 
and  see  a  little  procession  making  for  the  town,  no  doubt 
with  intent  to  purchase. 

In  one  side  street  less  choked  with  rubbish  small  boys 
were  playing  at  war.  But  for  the  most  part  the  children 
looked  very  sober.  They  had  been  spared  the  horrors 
of  occupation  but  they  had  suffered  privations  and  been 
surrounded  by  grief  and  despair. 


332          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

m 

When  she  had  exhausted  her  supplies  she  took  refuge 
in  the  church.  It  was  at  the  end  of  the  long  street  on 
the  ridge  and  after  she  had  rested  she  could  leave  the 
village  by  its  farther  end,  and  by  making  a  long  detour 
avoid  the  painful  necessity  of  refusing  alms. 

There  was  no  roof  on  the  church ;  otherwise  it  would 
have  been  the  general  refuge.  Part  of  it  including  the 
steeple  was  some  distance  away  and  looked  as  if  it  had 
been  blown  off.  The  rest  had  gone  down  with  one  of 
the  walls.  It  was  a  charred  unlovely  ruin.  Saints  and 
virgins  sometimes  defied  the  worst  that  war  could  do, 
but  all  had  succumbed  here.  The  paneless  windows  in 
the  walls  that  still  remained  precariously  erect  framed 
pictures  of  a  quiet  and  lovely  landscape.  The  stone 
walls  were  intact  about  the  farms  in  which  moved  a  few 
old  men  and  women  in  faded  cotton  frocks  that  looked 
like  soft  pastels.  The  oaks  were  majestic  and  serene. 
The  hills  were  lavender  in  the  distance.  But  the  farm 
houses  were  in  ruins  and  so  was  a  chateau  on  a  hill. 
Alexina  could  see  its  black  gaping  walls  through  the 
grove  of  chestnut  trees  withered  by  the  fire. 

She  wandered  about  looking  for  a  seat  however  humble 
but  could  find  nothing  more  inviting  than  piles  of  brick 
and  twisted  iron.  She  noticed  an  open  place  in  the  floor 
and  went  over  to  it  and  peered  down.  There  was  a 
flight  of  steps  ending  in  Cimmerian  darkness.  Doubt 
less  the  vaults  of  the  great  families  of  the  neighborhood 
were  down  there.  She  wondered  if  the  spite  of  the  Huns 
had  driven  them  to  demolish  the  very  bones  of  the  race 
they  were  unable  to  conquer. 


IV 

Suddenly  she  stiffened.  A  chill  ran  up  her  spine.  She 
had  an  overwhelming  sense  of  impending  danger  and 
stepped  swiftly  away  from  the  edge  of  the  aperture; 
then  turned  about,  and  faced  Gora  Dwight. 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW  333 


CHAPTER  XIV 


,"  she  said  calmly,  although  her  nerves  still  shud- 
dered.     "You  must  walk  like  a  fairy.     I  didn't 
hear  you." 

"One  must  pick  one's  way  through  rubbish." 

"Ghastly  ruin,  isn't  it?"* 

"Life  is  ghastly." 

Alexina  made  no  reply  lest  she  deny  this  assertion  out 
of  the  wonder  of  her  own  experience.  She  guessed  what 
Gora  had  come  for  and  that  she  was  feeling  as  elemental 
as  she  looked.  She  herself  had  recovered  from  that  sud 
den  access  of  horror  but  she  moved  still  further  from 
that  black  and  waiting  hole. 

' '  Are  you  going  to  marry  Gathbroke  ? ' ' 

The  gauntlet  was  down  and  Alexina  felt  a  sharp  sense 
of  relief.  She  was  in  no  mood  for  the  subtle  evasion  and 
she  had  not  the  least  inclination  to  turn  up  her  eyes. 
She  made  up  her  mind  however  to  save  Gora's  pride  as 
far  as  possible. 

"  Yes,  "she  said. 

"You  dare  say  that  to  me?" 

Alexina  raised  her  low  curved  eyebrows.  She  seldom 
raised  them  but  when  she  did  she  looked  like  all  her 
grandmothers. 

* '  Dare  ?  Did  you  expect  me  to  lie  ?  Is  that  what  you 
wish?" 

Gora  clutched  her  muff  hard  against  her  throat.  (Alex 
ina  wondered  if  she  had  a  pistol  in  it.)  Her  eyes  looked 
over  it  pale  and  terrible.  Alexina  had  the  advantage  of 
her  in  apparent  calm,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  confusion 
in  those  wide  baleful  irises  with  their  infinitesimal  pupils. 

"You  knew  that  I  loved  him.  That  I  had  loved  him 
for  twelve  years." 

' '  I  knew  nothing  of  the  sort.  You  had  his  picture  on 
your  mantel  and  you  corresponded  with  him  off  and  on 
but  you  never  gave  me  a  hint  that  you  loved  him.  Twelve 


334          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

years !  Good  heaven !  A  friendship  extending  over  such 
a  period  was  conceivable;  natural  enough.  But  a  ro 
mance!  When  such  an  idea  did  cross  my  mind  I  dis 
missed  it  as  fantastic.  You  always  seemed  to  me  the 
embodiment  of  common  sense. " 

1 '  There  is  no  such  thing.  It  is  true — that  I  hardly  be 
lieved  it  then — admitted  it.  But  I  knew  we  should  meet 
again.  He  never  had  married.  It  looked  like  destiny 
when  I  did  meet  him.  I  nursed  him " 

She  paused  and  her  eyes  grew  sharp  and  watchful. 
Alexina's  face  showed  no  understanding  and  she  went 
on,  still  watching. 

"I  nursed  him  back  to  life.  Through  a  part  of  his 
convalescence.  A  woman  knows  certain  things.  He  al 
most  loved  me  then.  If  we  could  have  been  alone  he 
Would  have  found  out — asked  me  to  marry  him.  We 
should  be  married  to-day.  If  I  could  have  seen  him 
constantly  in  London  it  would  have  been  the  same." 
She  burst  out  violently:  "I  believe  you  wrote  to  him  to 
come  to  Paris." 

* '  My  dear  Gora !  Keep  your  imagination  for  your  fic 
tion.  I  had  forgotten  his  existence  until  I  saw  him,  for 
a  few  seconds,  at  a  reception.  Don't  forget  that  he 
came  to  Paris  under  orders  from  his  Government." 

' l  But  you  recognized  him  that  night.  You  came  down 
here  to  meet  him,  to  get  away  from  me." 

* '  Far  from  coming  here  to  meet  him  I  had  given  up  all 
hope  of  ever  seeing  him  again.  He  found  out  my  ad 
dress  and  followed  me.  You  also  seem  to  forget  that 
you  never  mentioned  his  name  to  me  in  Paris.  How 
was  I  to  know  that  you  were  still  interested  in  him?" 

"That  first  night  .  .  .  you  guessed  it  ...  you  threw 
down  a  sort  of  challenge.  Deny  that  if  you  can ! ' ' 

. ' '  No !  I  '11  not  deny  it.  I  wanted  him  as  badly  as  you 
did  if  with  less  reason.  Nevertheless  .  .  .  believe  it  or 
not  as  you  like  ...  I  came  down  here  as  much  to  leave 
the  field  clear  to  you  as  for  my  own  peace  of  mind.  I 
think  ...  I  fancy  ...  I  decided  to  leave  the  matter 
on  the  knees  of  the  gods." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  if  I  had  met  him  while 
we  were  together  in  Paris,  and  you  knew  the  truth,  that 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          335 

yon  would  not  have  tried  to  win  Mm  away  from  me?" 

*  *  I  wonder !  I  have  asked  myself  that  question  several 
times.  I  like  to  think  that  I  should  have  been  noble,  and 
withdrawn.  But  I  am  not  at  all  sure.  .  .  .  Yes,  I  do 
believe  I  should,  not  from  noble  unselfishness,  oh,  not  by 
a  long  sight,  but  from  pride — if  I  saw  that  he  was  really 
in  love  with  you.  I'd  never  descend  to  scheming  and 
plotting  and  pitting  my  fascinations  against  another 
woman " 

"Oh,  damn  your  aristocratic  highfalutin  pride.  I 
suppose  you  mean  that  I  have  no  such  pride,  having  no 
inherited  right  to  it.  Perhaps  not  or  I  wouldn't  be  here 
to-day.  At  least  I  wouldn't  be  talking  to  you,"  she 
added,  her  voice  hoarse  with  significance. 

Once  more  Alexina  eyed  the  muff.  * '  Did  you  come  here 
to  kill  me?" 

"Yes,  I  did.  No,  I  haven't  a  pistol.  I  couldn't  get 
one.  I  trusted  to  opportunity.  When  I  saw  you  stand 
ing  at  the  edge  of  that  hole  I  thought  I  had  it. ' ' 

Alexina  found  it  impossible  to  repress  a  shiver  but  in 
spite  of  those  dreadful  eyes  she  felt  no  recurrence  of 
fear. 

"What  good  would  that  have  done  you?  Murderesses 
get  short  shrift  in  France.  There  is  none  of  that  sick 
ening  sentimentalism  here  that  we  are  cursed  with  in  our 
country. ' ' 

"Murders  are  not  always  found  out.  If  you  were  at 
the  bottom  of  that  hole  it  would  be  long  before  you  were 
found  and  there  is  no  reason  why  I  should  be  suspected. 
I  didn't  come  through  the  village.  I  didn't  even  inquire 
at  your  house.  I  saw  you  leave  it  and  followed  at  a  dis 
tance.  If  I'd  pushed  you  down  there  I'd  have  followed 
and  killed  you  if  you  were  not  dead  already." 

Alexina  wondered  if  she  intended  to  rush  her.  But 
she  was  sure  of  her  own  strength.  If  one  of  them  went 
down  that  hole  it  would  not  be  she.  Nevertheless  she 
was  beginning  to  feel  sorry  for  Gora.  She  had  never 
sensed,  not  during  the  most  poignant  of  her  contacts  with 
the  war,  such  stark  naked  misery  in  any  woman's  soul. 
Its  futile  diabolism  but  accentuated  its  appeal. 

* '  Well,  you  missed  your  chance, ' '  she  said  coldly.  Gora 


336          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

was  in  no  mood  to  receive  sympathy!  "And  if  you 
hadn't  and  escaped  detection  I  don't  fancy  you  would 
have  enjoyed  carrying  round  with  you  for  the  next  thirty 
or  forty  years  the  memory  of  a  cowardly  murder.  Too 
bad  we  aren  't  men  so  that  we  could  have  it  out  in  a  fair 
fight.  My  ancestors  were  all  duellists.  No  doubt  yours 
were  too, ' '  she  added  politely. 

"Perhaps  you  are  right.7'  For  the  first  time  there 
was  a  slight  hesitation  in  Gora's  raucous  tones.  But  she 
added  in  a  swift  access  of  anger:  "I  suppose  you  mean 
that  your  code  is  higher  than  mine.  That  you  are  in 
capable  of  killing  from  behind." 

' '  Good  heavens !  I  hope  so !  ...  Still  ...  I  will  con 
fess  I  have  had  my  black  moods.  It  is  possible  that  I 
might  have  let  loose  my  own  devil  if — if — things  had 
turned  out  differently." 

"Oh,  no,  you  wouldn't!  Not  when  it  came  to  the 
point.  You  would  have  elevated  your  aristocratic  nose 
and  walked  off."  She  uttered  this  dictum  with  a  cer 
tain  air  of  personal  pride  although  her  face  was  con 
vulsed  with  hate. 

"Gora,  you  are  really  making  an  ass  of  yourself.  If 
you  had  taken  more  time  to  think  it  over  you  wouldn't 
have  followed  me  up  with  any  such  melodramatic  inten 
tion  as  murder.  Good  God !  Haven 't  you  seen  enough 
of  murder  in  the  past  four  years  ?  I  could  readily  fancy 
you  going  in  for  some  sort  of  revenge  but  I  should  have 
expected  something  more  original " 

"Murder's  natural  enough  when  you've  seen  nothing 
else  as  long  as  I  have.  And  as  for  human  life — how 
much  value  do  you  suppose  I  place  on  it  after  four  years 
of  war?  I  had  almost  reached  the  point  where  death 
seemed  more  natural  than  life." 

"Oh,  yes  .  .  .  but  later.  .  .  .  There  are  tremendous 
reactions  after  war.  Settled  down  once  more  in  our 
smiling  land  nay  ghost  would  be  an  extremely  unpleasant 
companion.  You  see,  Gora,  you  are  just  now  in  that  ab 
normal  state  of  mind  known  as  inhibition.  But,  unfor 
tunately,  perhaps,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  you  have 
proved  yourself  to  be  possessed  of  a  violence  of  disposi 
tion — that  I  rather  admire — you  were  not  cut  out  to  be 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          337 

the  permanent  villain.  You  have  great  qualities.  And 
for  thirty-four  years  of  your  life  you  have  been  a  sane 
and  reasonable  member  of  society.  For  four  of  those 
years  you  have  been  an  angel  of  mercy.  .  .  .  Oh,  no.  If 
you  had  killed  me  you  would  have  killed  yourself  later. 
You  couldn't  live  with  Gathbroke  for  you  couldn't  live 
with  yourself.  Silly  old  tradition  perhaps,  but  we  are 
made  up  of  traditions.  .  .  .  That  was  one  reason  I  left 
Paris,  gave  up  trying  to  find  him.  ...  I  knew  that  I 
could  have  him.  But  I  also  knew  that  you  had  had  some 
sort  of  recent  experience  with  him,  that  you  had  come  to 
Paris  to  find  him,  that  possibly  if  left  with  a  clear  field 
you  could  win  him.  I  knew — Oh,  yes,  I  knew! — that 
he  would  know  instantly  he  was  mine  if  we  met. 
But  .  .  .  well,  I  too  have  to  live  with  myself.  It  might 
be  that  he  was  committed  to  you,  that  if  he  married  you, 
you  would  both  be  happy  enough.  When  he  did  come 
nothing  would  have  tempted  me  to  accept  him  if  I  had 
still  believed " 

11  Did  he  tell  you?  Tell  you  how  close  he  came ?  Tell 
you  that  I  was  in  love  with  him  ? ' ' 

"My  dear  Gora,  I  fancy  that  if  he  were  capable  of 
that  you  would  not  be  capable  of  loving  him.  I  cer 
tainly  should  not."  There  was  a  slight  movement  in 
her  throat  as  if  she  were  swallowing  the  rest  of  the  truth 
whole.  She  had  adhered  to  it  where  she  could  but  Gora 's 
face  must  be  saved.  "Your  name  was  not  mentioned.  I 
asked  him  no  questions  about  his  past.  I  am  not  the 
heroine  of  a  novel,  old  style.  He  told  me  that  he  loved 
me,  that  he  had  never  loved  any  other  woman,  never 
asked  any  other  woman  to  marry  him.  That  was  enough 
for  me.  I  had  no  place  in  my  mind  for  you  or  any  one 
else.  Perhaps  you  don't  know — how  could  you — that 
years  ago,  when  he  was  in  California,  he  asked  me  to 
marry  him." 

1 l  Calf  love !    If  you  had  not  been  here  now " 

"He  would  have  gone  to  California  as  soon  as  he 
could  get  away.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  that  be 
fore  he  came  to  Paris. ' ' 

"What!" 

Gora's  arms  dropped  to  her  sides  and  she  stared  at  the 


338          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

floor.  Then  she  laughed.  "0  God,  what  irony!  I 
talked  of  you  more  or  less  as  was  natural  .  .  .  and  he  re 
membered  ...  we  had  recalled  the  past  vividly  enough. 
.  .  .  Why  couldn  't  one  of  those  instincts  in  which  we  are 
supposed  to  be  prolific  have  warned  me  ?  ...  Much  fic 
tion  is  like  life !  .  .  .  Any  heroine  I  could  have  created 
would  have  had  it  ...  had  more  sense.  ...  I  have 
botched  the  thing  from  beginning  to  end." 

She  raised  her  head  and  stared  at  Alexina  with  somber 
eyes;  the  insane  light  had  died  out  of  them.  They  took 
in  every  detail  of  that  enhanced  beauty,  of  that  inner 
flame,  white  hot,  that  made  Alexina  glow  like  a  trans 
parent  lamp. 

She  also  recalled  that  she  had  watched  her  pack  her 
bags  .  .  .  that  pervenche  velvet  gown  .  .  .  Alexina  had 
described  the  quaint  old  salon.  .  .  .  Her  imagination 
flashed  out  that  first  interview  with  Gathbroke  with  a 
tormenting  conjuring  of  detail.  .  .  . 

"You  are  one  of  the  favorites  of  life,"  she  admitted 
in  her  bitter  despair.  "You  have  been  given  every 
thing " 

"I  drew  Mortimer,"  Alexina  reminded  her. 

"True.  But  you  dusted  him  out  of  your  life  with  an 
ease  and  a  thoroughness  that  has  never  been  surpassed. 
Think  what  you  might  have  drawn.  No,  you  are  lucky, 
lucky !  The  prizes  of  life  are  for  your  sort.  I  am  one 
of  the  overlooked  or  the  deliberately  neglected.  Not  a 
fairy  stood  at  my  cradle.  All  things  have  come  to  you 
unsought.  Beauty.  Birth.  Position.  Sufficient  wealth. 
Power  over  men  and  women.  An  enchanting  personal 
ity.  All  the  social  graces.  You  have  had  ups  and  downs 
merely  because  after  all  you  are  a  mortal;  and  as  a 
matter  of  contrast — to  heighten  your  powers  of  appre 
ciation.  No  doubt  the  worst  is  over  for  you.  I  have  had 
to  take  life  by  the  throat  and  wring  out  of  her  what  little 
I  have.  That  is  what  makes  life  so  hopeless,  so  terrible. 
No  genius  for  social  reform  will  ever  eliminate  the  in 
equality  of  personality,  of  the  inner  inheritance.  Nature 
meant  for  her  own  sport  that  a  few  should  live  and  the 
rest  should  die  while  still  alive." 

"Gora,  I  don't  want  to  sound  like  the  well-meaning 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          339 

friends  who  tell  a  mother  when  she  loses  her  child  that 
it  is  better  off,  but  I  can't  help  reminding  you  that  a 
very  large  and  able-bodied  fairy  presided  at  your  cradle. 
You  have  a  great  gift  that  I'd  give  my  two  eyes  for; 
and  you  know  perfectly  well — or  you  will  soon — that 
you  will  get  over  this  and  forget  that  Gathbroke  ever 
existed,  while  you  are  creating  men  to  suit  yourself/' 
Her  incisive  mind  drove  straight  to  the  truth.  "You 
will  write  better  than  ever.  Possibly  the  reason  that  you 
have  not  reached  the  great  public  is  because  your  work 
lacks  humanity,  sympathy.  You  never  lived  before.  You 
were  all  intellect.  Now  you  have  had  a  terrific  upheaval 
and  you  seem  to  have  experienced  about  everything,  in 
cluding  the  impulse  to  murder.  Most  writers  would  ap 
pear  to  live  uneventful  lives  judging  from  their  ex 
tremely  dull  biographies.  But  they  must  have  had  the 
most  tremendous  inner  adventures  and  soul-racking  ex 
periences — the  big  ones — or  they  couldn't  have  written 
as  they  did.  .  .  .  This  must  be  the  more  true  in  regard  to 
women. ' ' 

Gora  continued  to  stare  at  her.  The  words  sank  in. 
Her  clear  intellect  appreciated  the  truth  of  them  but 
they  afforded  her  no  consolation.  All  emotion  had  died 
out  of  her.  She  felt  beaten,  helpless. 

She  was  obliged  to  look  up  as  she  watched  Alexina's 
subtly  transfigured  face,  fascinated.  It  made  her  feel 
even  her  physical  insignificance ;  the  more  as  she  had  lost 
the  flesh  that  had  given  her  short  stature  a  certain 
majesty. 

"Oh,  life  is  unjust,  unjust. "  She  no  longer  spoke  with 
bitterness,  merely  as  one  forced  to  state  an  inescapable 
fact.  "Injustice!  The  root  of  all  misfortune." 

"Life  is  a  hard  school  but  where  she  has  strong  char 
acters  to  work  on  she  turns  out  masterpieces.  You  will 
be  one  of  them,  Gora.  And  I  fancy  that  women  born 
with  great  gifts  were  meant  to  stand  alone  and  to  be 
trained  in  that  hard  school.  It  is  only  when  women  of 
your  sort  have  a  passing  attack  of  the  love  germ  that  they 
imagine  they  could  go  through  life  as  a  half  instead  of  a 
whole.  When  you  are  in  the  full  tide  of  your  powers 
with  the  public  for  a  lover  I  fancy  you  will  look  back 


340          THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW 

upon  this  episode  with  gratitude,  if  you  remember  it  at 
all." 

1  'Perhaps.  But  that  is  a  long  way  off!  I  have  just 
been  told  that  the  order  of  fiction  with  which  my  mind  is 
packed  at  present  is  not  wanted.  It  has  been  contemp 
tuously  rejected  by  the  American  public  as  'war  stuff.'  ' 

' '  Good  heaven !     That  is  a  misfortune ! ' ' 

For  a  moment  Alexina  was  aghast.  Here  was  the 
real  tragedy.  She  almost  prayed  for  inspiration,  for  it 
lay  with  her  to  readjust  Gora  to  life.  To  no  one  else 
would  Gora  ever  give  her  confidence. 

"I  don't  believe  for  a  moment,"  she  said,  "that  the 
intelligent  public  will  ever  reject  a  great  novel  or  story 
dealing  with  the  war.  The  masterly  treatment  of  any 
subject,  the  new  point  of  view,  the  swift  compelling 
breathless  drama  that  is  your  peculiar  gift,  must  triumph 
over  any  mood  of  the  moment.  Moreover,  when  you  are 
back  in  California  you  will  see  these  last  four  years  in  a 
tremendous  perspective.  And  no  contrast  under  heaven 
could  be  so  great.  You  probably  won't  hear  the  war 
mentioned  once  a  month.  No  doubt  much  that  crowds 
your  mind  now  will  cease  to  interest  the  productive  tract 
of  your  brain  and  you  will  write  a  book  with  the  war  as 
a  mere  background  for  your  new  and  infinitely  more 
complete  knowledge  of  human  psychology.  No  novel  of 
any  consequence  for  years  to  come  will  be  written  with 
out  some  relationship  to  the  war.  Stories  long  enough 
to  be  printed  in  book  form  perhaps,  but  not  the  novel: 
which  is  a  memoir  of  contemporary  life  in  the  form  of 
fiction.  No  writer  with  as  great  a  gift  as  yours  could 
have  anything  but  a  great  destiny.  Go  back  to  Cali 
fornia  and  bang  your  typewriter  and  find  it  out  for  your 
self." 

For  the  first  time  something  like  a  smile  flitted  over 
Gora's  drawn  face.  "Perhaps.  I  hope  you  are  right. 
I  don 't  think  I  could  ever  really  lose  faith  in  that  star. ' ' 
She  was  thinking:  Oh,  yes!  I'll  go  back  to  California 
as  quickly  as  I  can  get  there — as  a  wounded  animal 
crawls  back  to  its  lair. 

She  would  have  encircled  the  globe  three  times  to  get 
to  it.  Her  state.  To  her  it  was  what  family  and  friends 


THE  SISTERS-IN-LAW          341 

and  home  and  children  were  to  another.  It  was  literally 
the  only  friend  she  had  in  the  world.  She  would  have 
flown  to  it  if  she  could,  sure  of  its  beneficence. 

"I  shall  go  as  soon  as  I  can  get  passage,"  she  said. 
"And  you?" 

"I  must  go  too  unless  I  can  get  a  divorce  here.  I 
shall  know  that  in  a  few  days. ' ' 

' '  Well,  we  travel  on  different  steamers  if  you  do  go ! 
I  shall  stop  off  at  Truckee  and  go  to  Lake  Tahoe.  It  will 
foe  a  long  while  before  I  go  to  any  place  that  reminds  me 
of  you.  I  no  longer  want  to  kill  you  but  I  want  to  forget 
you.  Good-by. ' ' 


CHAPTER  XV 

\\7 HEN  she  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill  she  turned 
^  ^  and  looked  back.  Alexina  was  standing  in  one  of 
the  jagged  window  casements  of  the  church.  The  bright 
warm  sun  was  overhead  in  a  cloudless  sky.  Its  liquid 
careless  rays  flooded  the  ruin.  Alexina 's  tall  white 
figure,  the  soft  blue  of  her  hat  forming  a  halo  about  her 
face,  was  bathed  in  its  light;  a  radiant  vision  in  that 
shattered  town  whose  very  stones  cried  out  against  the 
injustice  of  life. 

Alexina,  who  was  feeling  like  anything  but  a  madonna 
in  a  stained  glass  window,  waved  a  questing  hand. 

"The  fortunate  of  earth!"  thought  Gora. 

She  set  her  lips  grimly  and  walked  across  the  valley 
with  a  steady  stride.  At  least  she  could  be  one  of  the 
strong. 


THE  END 


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